Saviour of Magic
by Colt01
Summary: An intelligent, well-trained Boy Who Lived comes to Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore is thrown for a loop. Watch as Harry figures out his destiny as a large threat looms over the horizon, unknown to the unsuspecting magical population. Would Harry Potter be willing to take on his role as the Saviour of Magic or would the world burn in his absence? Harry/Daphne. COMPLETE!
1. Welcome home, Harry

_**SAVIOUR OF MAGIC**_

 _ **By Colt01**_

 _ **DESCRIPTION:** **An intelligent, well-trained Boy Who Lived comes to Hogwarts, startling everyone in Magical Britain. Harry Potter, the boy hero, does not seem to behave in the way anyone expected and Albus Dumbledore is thrown for a loop. Watch as Harry figures out his destiny as a large threat looms over the horizon, unknown to the unsuspecting magical population. Would Harry Potter be willing to take on his role as the Saviour of Magic or would the world burn in his absence?**_

 **PAIRING** : Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass

 ** _DISCLAIMER:_** _I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K. Rowling._

 _ **AN:** Thank you all for the amazing reviews you have given me for my stories; they truly encourage me to write more and grow as a writer. That being said, this story is what I had actually wanted Lightning Lord to look like. Harry was way too powerful for me to work _ with in _my previous story, which was why I couldn't continue with Part 2. This is a whole new story, but with themes of Lightning Lord thrown in here and there and once the Voldemort problem is solved, I'll be going further, introducing what I had planned for Lightning Lord – Part 2. I've done my best to avoid character bashing of any kind, but that does not mean I will show everyone in a positive light. Harry himself is darker in this story or at least dark-grey. Thank you for all your support and please enjoy my latest story – Saviour of Magic!_

 _If you have already read 'Harry Potter and the Lightning Lord', Chapters 2 to 13 might seem similar, but I assure you that it's not the same. The plot diverg_ _es to a large extent from Chapter 14. **Also, due to problems I faced much later, I have altered the timeline and pushed everything forward by ten years. Therefore, when Harry starts Hogwarts, it's not 1991, but 2001.**_

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **Prologue**_

 _After he left, Ollivander smiled, his silvery eyes looming over the thirteen-year-old boy outside. "The Saviour of Magic," he whispered. "Yes, as I said, we can expect great things from you, Harry Potter. Some might view it as terrible, but it is necessary. I just hope you don't crumble before you fulfil your destiny."_

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Chapter 1_**

 ** _Welcome Home, Harry_**

Harry Potter was a weird child. That was the consensus among everyone in Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The boy was said to have been orphaned because of a car crash that killed his parents when he was just a year old. No one knew much about his parents, but Petunia Dursley, the boy's aunt, had told everyone that the boy's father had been a good for nothing drunk and his mother, a whore. She had also warned everyone that the boy was a delinquent. Seeing him in large clothes and looking scruffy all the time just reinforced that image.

However, Harry Potter was anything but such a child. He was unusually intelligent since young, but the Dursleys always did their best to discourage him. The boy had always known that he was _different_. For as long as he could remember, Harry was called a 'freak' by his relatives and they spoke about his 'unnaturalness'. This confused the young boy because he wondered what they were talking about. But he didn't dare ask what it meant because he knew that doing so would make his relatives angry. The last time he had asked about his parents, Uncle Vernon had beaten him up and not given him any food for three days. Harry didn't really care for a repeat performance.

Things slowly started to change as Harry grew up. Strange things started to happen as he began school. For one thing, he could instantly grasp everything being taught by the teachers and he could remember what he had studied or learnt with excellent clarity. This, of course, led to more problems with his relatives. His cousin Dudley, who seemed to be inflating on a daily basis due to the amount of food going into his mouth, couldn't even pronounce anything other than his own name properly. This led to more punishments as the Dursleys claimed that he had cheated on his tests.

As he grew up, things only seemed to get worse. Harry was given an unending list of chores around the house. He had to cook, clean, weed the gardens, wash the dishes and was essentially a slave to his uncle, aunt and cousin. He was given very little food while his whale of a cousin could eat anything he wanted. His hand-me-down clothes were all too big for him and he was forced to sleep in a tiny cupboard under the stairs. He was not allowed, because it made the Dursleys angry, to be happy or sad. Harry personally felt that didn't have anything to be happy about. And dare he ever reveal that he was sad or angry, he knew that Uncle Vernon would be furious; he did not have a death wish.

Harry _hated_ his relatives. Even as a four-year-old child, he hadn't liked them. As time went on, he realised that strange things happened to him when he was angry or upset. That horrible teacher's hair had turned blue on the first day of school because he hadn't known his name; it really hadn't been his fault! How was he supposed to know his name if the Dursleys didn't tell him? _Freak_ could hardly be his name; he was smart enough to know that. However, the strange occurrences, just like this one, never stopped.

When Aunt Petunia had shaved him nearly bald one day, his hair had surprisingly grown back the very next morning! Of course, Aunt Petunia had shrieked and shrieked for an hour and he was punished for it, but it made him very curious as there were several other similar instances over the years. Then, today, during one of Dudley's routine _Harry Hunting_ games, he had wished himself to escape from his tormentors and the next thing he knew, he had appeared on the roof of the school!

That had blown things way out of proportion.

Harry was seven-years-old now. He dreaded to go back home, knowing what was going to happen. He didn't know how he had appeared on the school roof, but it had triggered a major scene, bad enough for the Headmistress to get involved. There were no stairs to the roof, so the fire department had to be called to rescue him. Harry knew that he was in trouble. His heart thumped in his chest as he pondered the question. Did he have some strange power like the superheroes on the telly? Is that how he could do such things? His bones had always healed themselves the next day after every beating. Normally, he should have been covered from head to toe in bandages for months, but even after sustaining several injuries, he was still fine the next morning!

Harry took a deep, shaky breath and at once, he calmed down. He had always been able to control his emotions. There was a focus on which he could draw from that helped him maintain an expressionless facade all the time. He didn't know what it was, but perhaps it was his mystery force? He certainly wasn't going to complain. Maybe he should try to do something, like levitating an object. That would prove his theory about some arcane power.

 _If_ he survived tonight's beating, that is. Harry knew that there was no escaping this. Aunt Petunia had been called to the school because of the incident.

As soon as he entered the house, he focused on finishing his chores quietly in order to get back to his cupboard as soon as possible. He could see Aunt Petunia seething in the background. He wanted to get back to the cupboard before his uncle could come home. Maybe then, he could avoid the beating that would follow, but he wasn't stupid enough to expect it. Once he finished cooking dinner, he closed the door of his cupboard, just as Uncle Vernon entered the house in a towering rage. Harry's thin form trembled in fear as he heard Aunt Petunia screech loudly, telling her husband about the incident at school.

"BOY!"

Harry cringed as he slowly opened the door of the cupboard. He stepped outside and entered the kitchen.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he asked in his usual bland voice that lacked any form of expression or emotion.

But that was the last thing he said before the obese man grabbed him by the throat. "What did I tell you about using your freakishness, boy?" he bellowed. "I won't have your craziness in my house, do you hear me? _None of it_! How did you end up on the roof?"

Harry tried to get away, but the grip was too tight. Just as he was about to pass out due to of lack of air, Vernon bodily threw him on the floor towards the other side of the room. Gasping and coughing, he wheezed out, "I swear, I don't know. One minute I was running and the next second I was on the roof. It was like magic!"

That was the dreaded word. Petunia's eyes widened in horror and rage; she gasped. Vernon gave an almighty roar of rage, his face an angry shade of red.

Uncle Vernon came forward and pinned the boy to the ground, face down. Harry whimpered as the man's belt impacted his back. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" screamed Uncle Vernon, his face puffed up with rage. He had promised himself that he would beat the freakishness out of the boy when they took him in and that was what he was going to do! He wouldn't have such freaks living in his house. If he couldn't get rid of the boy, then he would get rid of the nonsense that was _in_ the boy itself! After this punishment, maybe the freak would think twice before using his unnatural powers on good, hardworking people such as themselves.

Vernon grabbed the iron rod which was next to the fireplace. Harry's eyes widened in shock and terror, but the next thing he knew, he was screaming himself hoarse with tears streaming down his face as the rod impacted his legs, breaking them. Petunia shrieked in panic, but Vernon didn't stop, his rage driving him over the edge. Harry was crying and screaming, begging his uncle to stop as the rod hit him over and over again. Just as Harry saw the rod come for his head, he called upon his strange powers and wished he could be somewhere safe; someplace where he would be far away from the Dursleys so that they couldn't hurt him. Just as the rod descended, Harry disappeared from the kitchen of the Dursley residence with a loud _crack_.

Harry felt as though he was being squeezed through a tube. The pain he was feeling was unbearable and he fell unconscious before he could identify his new surroundings.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Just as Harry Apparated with a loud _crack_ , a house-elf too appeared in the entrance hall of Potter Castle. It frowned when it saw the human child. It was not possible for anyone to Apparate inside the castle, so how did the child get in? The elf's eyes widened when the familiar bond of a house-elf and its master became familiar.

"Master Harry!" the elf gasped. The house-elf called for its companions. Two other elves popped next to her as they transported Harry to the medical wing of the castle. While elves were not healers, they could use their brand of magic to heal wounds while they also used potions prepared by wizards to supplement it. Few of the elves used their magic to fix the broken bones while another poured healing potions down Harry's throat. However, there was something else which the elves recognised. Because of the bond they shared with Harry, they could tell that he was playing host to a possession which resided in his scar. Knowing that such a thing had to be destroyed before it fully controlled their master, the elves surrounded the bed where Harry was sleeping as they chanted in their native tongue.

Magic was simple, yet complex. It was infinite yet harmonious. The magic of different species was different and this was the advantage here. While it was impossible for wizards to destroy a soul piece without destroying the vessel, Elvin magic could do so. Harry started shaking and sweating as his scar heated up. As the chanting grew, the boy screamed in pain; his scar split open. A piercing scream rent the air as the soul piece was destroyed after being ejected from Harry's head. The boy slumped in his bed, exhausted.

The scar on his forehead which had always been red and inflamed began healing as the elves tended to it. It was now only a thin, white line, shaped like a lightning bolt. The Horcrux in Harry's scar was destroyed, but unfortunately, it was not a clean job. The house-elves thought Harry was being possessed, but in reality, he had been playing host to a soul piece. The two were slightly different in nature, so the ritual of the house-elves did not work as they had expected. There was an unexpected side effect that went unnoticed.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry Potter opened his eyes, groaning softly. He ached all over and he felt like he had been run over by a bus. His eyes widened in panic when he saw that he wasn't at the Dursleys. He was in an unknown place. It was filled with several simple beds and the walls were painted white. Was he in a hospital?

"Good morning, young man," said an ethereal voice.

Harry turned and it took all his willpower not to scream. There was a man _floating_ in front of him. But it wasn't anything normal because he was _silvery_ and _transparent_.

"W-Who are y-you?" Harry whispered as he tried to get his volatile emotions under control. His hands and legs trembled as a feeling of dread overwhelmed him. Where was he? Memories of the encounter with Uncle Vernon flooded into his mind. He swallowed and asked hesitantly, "Am I dead?"

The figure of the man frowned. "No. You are very much alive, though you were badly injured when you got here. As for who I am, I'm the ghost of Alfred Potter; you _are_ a Potter, are you not?"

"Ghost?" Harry blurted out. He swallowed heavily and answered, "My name is Harry Potter."

The ghost of Alfred Potter smiled. "Good; just making sure that you are indeed James' son. I'm glad you made it back home, young one. It truly was a tragedy what happened to your parents. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, sir," said Harry but winced slightly; his body ached. Alfred nodded in understanding as he called out, "Tippy!"

Harry was startled when he saw a small creature appear in front of him. It had large ears and tennis-ball shaped eyes. "What can Tippy do for Master Alfred?"

"Give young Harry here a pain relief potion, would you?"

The elf nodded as it popped away and brought a phial which contained a blue liquid.

"Drink this," Alfred instructed. "It will make the pain go away."

Harry had a thousand questions in his mind but decided to do as instructed. Just as he swallowed the concoction, he sighed in contentment as the pain receded.

"What was … that thing?"

"That was a house-elf, Harry, didn't you recognise it?" Alfred frowned. "They serve in many magical households; surely your guardians would have one in their house, or at least employed one."

" _Magic?_ "

Alfred scowled. "It looks like you haven't been told about the existence of magic. The scion of our clan being raised by Muggles! I can't believe it!"

When Harry just stared back at the ghost, Alfred sighed. "What do you know about your parents?"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

So it began. Harry learnt everything about his parents – their names, their status in the society, and about the Potter family in general. The house-elves gave him more healing potions, but Harry was still very small and frail for his age. Alfred Potter, Harry's great-great-great grandfather began explaining to him about why he had remained as a ghost.

"To answer your question about why I'm a ghost, you first need to understand the nature of our clan. The Potter family is one of the oldest families in Magical Europe," said the ghost. "At one point in time, our family was quite large. It was big enough to create our own private army if the situation demanded it. We didn't care much for politics in the Wizengamot – our governing body – but instead, focussed more on business. We had warders, Quidditch players, healers, duellists, potioneers, enchanters and businessmen in our family. Our power in international trade was unparalleled by anyone in Europe. We thought ourselves invincible, increasing our fortune through shrewd business tactics and investments that were planned meticulously. However, things didn't remain rosy for long."

Alfred took a deep breath. "One of my nephews felt it was his right to get the Lordship of the family," he continued. "That wasn't possible because the next in line to head the clan – the family – was my son, William. With that in mind, he descended deep into the Dark Arts, consorting with people who were hell-bent on our destruction as they manipulated him, feeding his ego."

"I won't bore you with the details right now about why people wanted to see us dead; that is a story for later, but suffice it to say, we had many enemies. The boy was able to raise a small army of his own. With sheer power and use of different magical instruments powered by his blood, he was able to get his people inside the various homes inhabited by the family around the world. It was a massacre. He and his companions slaughtered every single one of the Potters – except three members."

Harry was shocked. To think someone would do that just for the sake of power and wealth was something he couldn't imagine. He was still a seven-year-old boy, having been confined for as long as he could remember, with the realities of the larger world unknown to him.

"We, that is to say, me, my wife and my son, were here, at Potter Castle. We didn't know what was going on until my son's friend, Steffen Greengrass, was able to find out about it. The massacre was truly well-coordinated and executed. Several years of planning was needed to pull it off, from what we found out later."

"Within a day, the once mighty Potter family was brought down to its knees, never to recover again, with only three surviving members left because one of them was power hungry. However, by the time the attackers came to the castle, we were ready to defend ourselves. We used the offensive and defensive enchantments to a great extent and were able to overcome our enemies. When I died, I refused to move on because I took it upon myself to protect the Potter family in the future, which is what I am doing now. Come with me, Harry. We must raise the wards around the castle now that you are here."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Albus Dumbledore was frantic when he saw the silver instrument which monitored the blood-wards around the Dursley residence not giving out puffs of smoke anymore. The wards had fallen! How could that happen? He had to get there quickly to put the enchantment back up again otherwise the situation would be too horrible to contemplate. Dumbledore cursed under his breath. He had not been around when the wards had fallen. The place had been exposed for an entire day! He quickly stepped inside the Floo and with a flash of green flames, was transported to Arabella Figg's home.

"Albus?" exclaimed Mrs Figg in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"The wards have fallen," he said with worry as he walked out of the house. Quickly making his way to Number Four, he knocked on the door. After a few seconds, it opened and he recognised the face of the woman he wanted to meet.

"You!" whispered Petunia in fear and a hint of anger.

"Hello Petunia, it is nice to see you again," smiled Dumbledore. "I have a few important things to discuss with you. May I come inside?"

Without waiting for her to answer, Dumbledore let himself in. "I'm afraid the wards have fallen around this house. You are in grave danger. Where is young Harry?"

Petunia trembled as she felt the old man's magic flare around her. Dumbledore frowned as he looked into her eyes, attempting Legilimency. What he saw shocked him to the very core. Vernon Dursley had nearly _killed_ Harry? Was the boy punished frequently for accidental magic too? How could Petunia do that to her own nephew?

Harry Potter had disappeared. Where had he gone? The boy had to be rescued before any of Lord Voldemort's followers found out. It would be disastrous should they kill the Boy-Who-Lived.

Cursing under his breath after _Obliviating_ Petunia, he called for Fawkes who materialized in a flash of flame above his head. He instantly appeared in his office and quickly summoned another silver instrument. This was a tracking charm which he had placed on the boy. He frowned when he realised that he couldn't find Harry. He was obviously under heavy wards.

Quickly moving towards a secret cabinet, Dumbledore removed a single filament of hair which was stored in a phial. Normally what he was doing was illegal, but since he was the boy's magical guardian, he had the right to ensure Harry's safety. As long as he didn't have any blood in his possession, all was in the game. He put the strand of hair inside the silver instrument. He smiled as it started puffing and glowing. Any minute now, he would know of the boy's location.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry followed his ancestor to the Lord's study. On the way, he looked around and was in awe of the beauty and splendour of the place. It was richly decorated in crimson, cream and gold, with gold-framed paintings hanging on the walls. Even the marble flooring was gleaming under the lighting charms. He was lead through a door and gasped when they entered the study. Several shelves filled with books were present, along with a large mahogany desk. Rich trinkets were placed all over; the fireplace was lit and the floor to ceiling windows on one side gave an outstanding view of the grounds outside the castle. A leather swirl chair was behind the desk.

"Come here and place your hand on this spot," instructed Alfred as he floated towards the desk.

Harry did as he was told. Just as he placed his hand there, he felt it stick to the wood. There was a tiny prick on his palm as it took a blood sample. When he removed his hand, a metallic disc appeared with several weird symbols on it.

"Now listen to my instructions very carefully, Harry. Do as I tell you and _exactly_ as I tell you, understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry muttered nervously. For the next twenty minutes, Harry tapped the necessary runes on the plate, carefully following the directions of his ancestor. It would have taken much less time for an adult, but Harry was just a child. He did as instructed.

"Now, I want you to press your hand on the rune plate, close your eyes and feel the wards; when you are ready, say 'Lockdown'."

Harry pressed his hand to the rune plate as ordered and closed his eyes. He could suddenly feel something in his mind. The castle seemed to _hum_ with him. It was sensations he had never felt before and he was very excited.

"LOCKDOWN!"

Suddenly, the windows and doors of the castle all shut at once. Heavy shutters slammed down, locking the castle into a fortress. Ancient wards activated as they absorbed magic from the ley lines present underground. The castle hummed as the surrounding property around the structure too came under the wards. The water in the moat surrounding the castle began churning as it glowed, various enchantments taking effect.

"There," said Alfred in satisfaction. "Unless they're resorting to blood magic, no one would be able to track you. The wards will give you the best protection possible at the moment. For now, this is enough."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Albus Dumbledore smiled in satisfaction and relief as the tracking instrument was able to triangulate the coordinates. But just as he was able to reach for it, there was a wailing noise as the instrument gave out. Dumbledore blinked in surprise. What kind of protective enchantments must Harry be under for _this_ to have failed?

He must start searching for Harry immediately. It was imperative that he rescues Harry from wherever the boy was being held. He would have to search the homes of the former Death Eaters first. Dumbledore didn't even want to think about what state poor Harry would be if he ever ended in the hands of someone like Lucius Malfoy. Reaching towards the Floo, he summoned his trusted aide.

"Severus, could you please come up to my office? I need to speak to you at once!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The next four years went by rapidly. Harry, at first, was quite awed by the castle itself. It was enormous! But he was more impressed with magic and what he was learning. However, he didn't reveal this to the ghost of his ancestor. Harry might feel emotions, but none of it was shown on his face or in his voice. When he confessed to the ghost about his perfect memory, Alfred had exclaimed that Harry was probably a natural Occlumens. That was the only theory that seemed to fit because no other child his age could control their emotions or remember something as much as Harry did. The talent was rare, but not unheard of.

Thus began Harry's training under his ancestor's guidance and sometimes, under the guidance of the various portraits in the castle. He was not taught in the traditional 'Potter method' as it was known, as Harry's intelligence warranted for accelerated teaching. They began with Potion making – a very important art which not many people appreciated. Potions could accomplish many things that other fields could not. Alfred always stressed that all fields of magic were equally important. He supervised Harry in the Potions lab as the boy learnt how to create a potion. When Harry made even the simplest of mistakes, the ghost would tell a house-elf to vanish the contents of the cauldron. Harry, without complaint, would gather the ingredients again and start the potion from scratch. This ensured that he mastered the art of preparing the potion, even if the method was extremely frustrating for Harry. Not that he ever complained, of course. He was grateful for being taught at all and remembering where he had come from was enough for him to focus all his attention on studies without complaint.

Alfred Potter was quite surprised by how quickly Harry seemed to grasp the concepts. It was like he already had the muscle for it all and only had to learn it once or twice to grasp everything. The boy was a prodigy. Alfred still couldn't believe that Harry was a natural Occlumens! It explained how his memory was always so sharp, not to mention why his emotions were never expressed. That was the downside of a natural Occlumens; emotions were unconsciously suppressed by the witch or wizard and Harry had been actively doing it when he was raised by the Dursleys.

Harry was also taught other subjects such as Runes, Defence, Charms and Transfiguration. These were the basic subjects of magic, and he was determined to master them. The boy also had a rather sharp grasp on wandless magic, which brought about another question in the nine-year-old boy's mind.

"Why do wizards use wands? Why not rely on wandless magic?"

"It's not like we haven't tried, Harry," said the portrait of Fergus Potter, Harry's great-grandfather. "But the problem with wandless magic is that it is not as powerful as the spells cast with a wand. You can tire yourself out and the intensity of the spells which come out of a wand cannot be matched. A wand is a focus for a wizard's power. While you can use wandless magic, it won't help you much in case you are fighting a powerful wizard. With the intensity of the spells being thrown around in a duel, wandless magic can give you an edge, but not by much. However, it is a powerful tool. You should practice it regularly so that you can harness the skill."

Harry also, under an alias, enrolled in a school for a wizarding form of martial arts when he was nine. Alfred said it was imperative that Harry knows how to defend himself physically. He also argued that it would help greatly during a fight as agility would be an asset.

By the time Harry's eleventh birthday rolled out, he was quite ready to re-enter the magical society. He had been trained extensively by the portraits about pureblood etiquette. He knew how to behave for a person of his standing. He also knew about his parents and their life experiences from the journals the elves had recovered from the wreckage of the cottage in Godric's Hollow. Harry also knew to be wary of Albus Dumbledore. The man had been mentioned repeatedly in his parents' journals and the portrait of his grandmother, Dorea, insisted that he was not who he appeared to be.

Dangerous or not, Harry was nothing if not careful. He would trust no one blindly, another concept which had been drilled into him over the years by the ghost of his ancestor. He had also learnt from his mistakes of doing that during his time with the Dursleys.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape were standing in the Headmaster's office as the quill enchanted by Rowena Ravenclaw began writing on the various envelopes. They had searched for Harry Potter for the past four years. It had been a pain to keep the Ministry of Magic and the media from finding out about the boy's disappearance, but they were hoping they could finally find out where he lived before word got out. Dumbledore had tried every method of tracking the boy, without success.

He had used Harry's hair, but it hadn't worked. He didn't have any more of the boy's blood either, so that was not an option, having used all of it to erect the protective enchantments around Number Four, Privet Drive so many years ago. Letters with tracking charms were returned unopened almost immediately as the owls were confused; no doubt there were anti-mail wards around the place for any letter sent with a tracking charm. Even Fawkes didn't seem to know where the boy was, so Dumbledore was sure the place was not ordinary. None of the Death Eaters seemed to have him, from what Severus had gathered, so they were quite curious about where he could be.

"Albus, look!" cried McGonagall excitedly.

Dumbledore watched with bated breath as the ancient quill began writing on the parchment.

 _Mr Harry J Potter,_

 _The Master Bedroom,_

 _Potter Castle,_

 _Sherwood Forest,_

 _Nottinghamshire_

"Potter Castle," Dumbledore murmured in surprise and relief. He had heard of the place but he had never seen it before. "It is the ancestral home of the Potter family. Thank Merlin he's alive!"

"How did he end up there when he didn't even know of its existence?" asked McGonagall, bewildered.

Snape sneered. "No doubt he is going to be as arrogant as his father after living the life of a pampered prince for so long."

Dumbledore ignored him, deep in thought. After a minute, he made his decision.

"Send the letter, Minerva," said Dumbledore softly. "If he does not reply within three days, we shall go meet him personally."

McGonagall nodded as she collected the bunch of letters that were to be sent to all the wizard-raised students. Snape was scowling as he left the office too. Dumbledore began pacing; all his carefully constructed plans regarding the Boy-Who-Lived's childhood lay in ruins. He had wanted the boy meek so that it would be possible for Harry to accept his destiny, but he had never wanted him to be as abused as he had been at the Dursleys! Frankly, Dumbledore had never thought that Petunia would be capable of such a thing!

As of now, it didn't matter, because young Harry had somehow found his way to one of his family homes. Was the boy too damaged like Tom Riddle had been? Or was he too traumatized by his experience with the Dursleys that he was afraid of his own shadow? Or was he the arrogant prince that Severus claimed he would be?

Dumbledore relaxed. He was jumping to conclusions and there was no point in that. He would wait. School was only a month away. He would wait and see what Harry Potter was like in September. He was positive that he could salvage his plans. This was only a minor hindrance.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry Potter woke up on his eleventh birthday with a small smile on his face. Even though he had heard all about it, he had unfortunately never ventured to Diagon Alley before. Grandfather Alfred had said that it was too dangerous for him and so he hadn't tried venturing out of the grounds for anything other than his martial arts class, but now, he could finally see the biggest shopping district in Magical Britain. He was quite excited even though he managed to hide it. He went to the bathroom and took a quick shower after finishing his morning chores. The walk-in closet in his bedroom showed many clothes that belonged to him. He picked a sky-blue shirt and a pair of black trousers, along with an informal open robe that fit him perfectly. After getting dressed, he headed to the family dining room to have breakfast. When he entered the study an hour later, the portraits all wished him a happy birthday.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Alfred wished him, the ghost drifting into the study. "We've discussed this. You know what you have to do today."

Harry nodded. He placed his hand on the Potter crest which was affixed to the wall. It contained two golden griffins facing each other with a large shield between them, with two intertwined swords. Harry closed his eyes as he said, "I, Harry James Potter, Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, do call upon my birthright and claim the headship of the Potter family. I vow to do my duty and bring honour to my clan. May Mother Magic bear witness to this blood oath of a Peverell!"

There was a pulse of magic as Harry's hand glowed. A ring appeared on his right ring finger. It had a large blue diamond, seamlessly placed on a platinum band. The inside of the diamond contained tiny, clear diamonds forming the Potter crest, which were implanted with magic by his ancestors.

" _Natus Vincere_ ," whispered Harry, closing his eyes in respect to honour the memories of his great ancestors. That was the Potter family motto, which meant _'Born to Conquer_ '.

"Congratulations, Harry," Alfred smiled at him. "I believe claiming headship does give you some autonomy over family matters. I'm not up to date with Magical Law. Talk to the goblins. They'll know better."

"I will, Grandfather," said Harry quietly as he exited the study. With confident strides, he reached the entrance hall. He took a pinch of Floo powder and stepped inside the ornate, granite fireplace and spoke clearly, "Diagon Alley," just as he was swallowed by a flash of green flames.


	2. Sorting and first impression

**_Chapter 2_**

 ** _Sorting and First Impressions_**

When Harry exited the Floo, he was assaulted by new smells and visions. The place was beautiful. Several buildings were on either side of a large street and there was so much magic in the air that it was unbelievable. For someone who had grown up in isolation for the last four years, it was quite unnerving to see hundreds of people in the alley. Harry buried his nervousness under his Occlumency shields as he walked towards the bank. He was not worried about being recognised. His appearance was quite different from what many people made him out to be and his scar was hidden behind a glamour charm. As he entered the marble building, he found a free teller and handed him a letter that had the seal of the Potter family on it.

"I would like to meet Ragnok, please," he said quietly.

The goblins were the only ones he had informed about his disappearance. Alfred had been quite insistent that he let them know that he was safe to ensure that the investments did not suffer as a result. He had penned a letter to Ragnok four years ago, but this was the first time he would be meeting the goblin.

"Griphook will take you to Ragnok's office," said the teller. Harry bowed to the goblin and was soon ushered into an opulent office.

"Greetings, Mr Potter," a voice welcomed him from behind a marble desk, the goblin observing the young boy with keen, black eyes. "I am Ragnok, the manager of the Potter accounts. What can I do for you?"

"Greetings to you as well, Ragnok," said Harry, acknowledging him with a bow. "I'm here to know the status of the Potter investments and vaults. I've been told that I'm not qualified or old enough to fully understand it, but I was hoping you could give me a brief explanation."

The next hour was spent in discussion as Ragnok explained, in simple words, about the various investments and the total worth of the Potter family. Harry knew it, but still, when he saw that the final number was in billions, he was awestruck.

"There is another matter which I want to discuss with you, Mr Potter," said Ragnok as he reached for a file containing a few sheets of parchment. "I've had time to go through this over the past few days and since you're here, I can deliver the news in person. I'm afraid I found an active betrothal contract between House Potter and House Greengrass that has been lying dormant for a couple of hundred years now."

It took all of Harry's self-control not to exclaim in shock. "Betrothal?" he asked, as his eyes bulged out.

"Indeed," nodded Ragnok. "This contract seems to have been formed by your great-great-grandfather, Lord William Potter more than one hundred and fifty years ago. It states that should either family be reduced to one member – like yours currently is – the betrothal contract will be activated and the last living member of the endangered family would be married to any son or daughter of the other's family who is similar in age."

"You are the last member of the Potter family. Lord Greengrass has two daughters, so according to this document, you are contracted to marry Miss Daphne Greengrass, who is also eleven years old, no later than your twenty-first birthday. The agreement seemed to have been drawn only as a precaution, immediately after the Potter Massacre, to safeguard the interests of the members of House Potter and House Greengrass, but I believe neither party intended for the contract to come into effect. It was a safety net, but it seems to have activated recently due to a time-limit having been crossed, with you currently being the only Potter alive. It's not strictly unbreakable, but magical contracts are very tricky. I suggest you seek the advice of those who specialise in such areas of Magical Law to see if there is a loophole."

Harry's face remained impassive, but mentally, he was panicking. He didn't even know this girl. How was he supposed to get married to her several years from now? There was no telling how she would react since this predicament was not her or her family's fault in any way. He also knew that he wasn't the easiest person to get along with. He had no patience to deal with people. He was quite an introvert.

"Does Lord Greengrass know about it?"

"Not yet. There was a time frame after which the contract activates, which was why it wasn't discovered until now. I will have to inform him soon. I shall let you know of any further developments. If you'd like, I can forward this contract to a wizarding law firm to check if there is a loophole."

Harry's stiff posture did not relax but he exhaled heavily through his nose. "I was wondering how to deal with that. I have no legal knowledge. That would be greatly appreciated, Ragnok. Thank you."

The young Potter scion was then given a thin, solid gold card which acted as a debit card to use for any purchases he would make in the future. Once his meeting with the goblin concluded, he was led to his family vault. Harry withdrew a few hundred Galleons and also browsed through the male jewellery section. Normally, he wouldn't be anywhere near this place, but the protection some of it offered was too hard to ignore. He finally picked out a small chain with a platinum locket with the Potter crest engraved on the outside. He would put a picture of his parents on the inside if he wanted to or store something of value.

Once he exited the bank, Harry made his way to Twilfit and Tattings and, on the recommendation of Madam Twilfit, bought his uniform made of high-quality silk. At the next shop, he purchased a multi-compartment trunk with several protective enchantments. Some might call him paranoid, but his safety and security, not to mention privacy, were important to him. After that, Harry got his school books, potions ingredients and telescope. He shook his head in exasperation at the Boy-Who-Lived books and toys being sold. Harry understood the public's fascination with him after Alfred explained it to him. No one had ever survived the Killing Curse after it hit them and reflected it back at its caster. It was because of this that Harry was mentioned in nearly every book which mentioned the Killing Curse. He was famous internationally and there was no escaping his fame. He just had to get used to it.

The cover of the books showed a boy with messy black hair with round spectacles. A hint of a smirk formed on Harry's lips. His hair was no longer messy, with him using magic to give it a smoother appearance. Neither did he wear glasses, unlike his father, James, who was forced to wear them due to being allergic to spells cast on his eyes. Harry wondered why the public viewed him as a carbon copy of his father. The only part of the picture that was accurate was the eyes – vivid emerald green, just like his mother's.

He also bought a snowy owl which he took a liking to and finally, came to Ollivander's shop for a wand. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and entered the shop. Just as he was about to open his mouth, he felt a presence next to him. Even with Occlumency, Harry was so surprised that he gasped.

"Ah, I knew I would see you one day, Mr Potter," said Garrick Ollivander, the wandmaker, softly as he edged closer to him. "It seems just yesterday when your mother and father were here buying their first wands. Let's see what we can do, shall we? Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm ambidextrous sir," Harry answered, extending both his arms.

"Oh!" exclaimed Ollivander happily, the magical tape automatically measuring the boy. "That is a surprise. Good, that's it. Now let's try this, shall we? Beech and Dragon Heartstring, nine inches; just give it a wave."

Harry waved the wand but the wandmaker snatched it back at once. He tried another, and another; the pile of wands kept growing but Ollivander seemed to get happier and happier after every try.

"Tricky customer, eh?" he commented as he emerged with another wand. "Not to worry, try this. Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches."

Harry took the wand but it gave out a wail and he immediately chucked it back at the wandmaker. "No, no, definitely not," the old man frowned. Thinking deeply, the wandmaker went inside his workshop and emerged a minute later with a small box. Ollivander removed another wand and handed it to him.

Suddenly, Harry felt warm as the wand heated up in his hand, releasing several multi-coloured sparks in the air as he swished it down. He smiled slightly as he felt the wand hum in his hand.

"Oh, bravo!" cried Ollivander happily. "I haven't sold one of these wands for quite some time now. They were crafted by one of my ancestors. The wand which you are holding is made of Yew and contains the tail feather of a Thunderbird. It is fourteen inches in length and quite rigid. That is a powerful wand, Mr Potter; use it well."

Harry nodded as he bought a top of the line wand holster too. Once it was firmly attached to his forearm, he paid for the wand and holster and exited the shop, quite happy. He finished shopping for a few more items and used the Portkey on his ring to get back home.

It had been a wonderful birthday.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **1st September, 2001**_

Harry adjusted his uniform and slipped into his new pair of dragon hide boots. The platinum locket which he had taken from his family vault was very much visible as it was hanging from his neck, outside his uniform. His moderately long shoulder-length black hair framed his face. Hedwig had decided to fly to Hogwarts instead of being in a cage, so he would only be taking his trunk with him. Once he was sure he had everything, he bid farewell to the ghost of Alfred Potter, the portraits and the tearful house-elves, shrunk his trunk and stepped inside the Floo. Within moments, he was engulfed by the green flames.

When he reappeared, he flicked his fingers and any remaining soot disappeared from his clothes. He was quite early so he found an empty compartment, enlarged his trunk and started reading a book on Runes he had taken from the Potter library. About thirty minutes later, he felt the train begin to move. Harry mentally sneered at the display of open emotions on the platform. Really, all those people wore their hearts on their sleeves; _morons_.

Just when he got comfortable, a brown-haired girl opened the door and asked meekly, "Excuse me, do you mind if my friend and I sit here?"

When Harry shook his head, the girl entered the compartment, dragging her trunk with her. Behind her, a very pretty girl with long, wavy dark-blonde hair and deep blue eyes entered the compartment. Harry flicked his wand to his hand and silently levitated both their trunks to the racks above.

"Wow, thank you," the brunette gushed. Harry simply nodded and went back to his book.

The blonde, Daphne Greengrass, looked at the boy critically. He was a pureblood for sure; his clothes were enough to scream that he was rich, and the casual display of magic proved that he was wizard-raised. She tried to identify who he was, secretly having to admit that he was incredibly cute. Her eyes spotted the blue diamond ring that adorned his right ring finger. It took her a minute to concentrate and decipher the crest. Her eyes widened when she finally recognised it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter," said Daphne, introducing herself politely. "I'm Daphne Greengrass and this is my friend, Tracy Davis."

Daphne thought she saw Harry's eyes light up in recognition, but she couldn't say for sure. He bowed to her, as per their wizarding customs, and said, "The honour is mine, Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis."

"Wow, I can't believe you are actually here!" Tracy exclaimed. "Lots of people have been talking about finally meeting you. It's been the only topic of conversation over the past two months!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "That just shows they have nothing productive to talk about. I'm just an eleven-year-old boy. I'm not sure what people are expecting from me, to be honest."

Tracy was gobsmacked at the candid answer and she didn't know what to make of it and neither did Daphne. Blue eyes narrowed as she observed her new classmate. Just then, the door of the compartment was rudely yanked open by a boy with red hair and freckles. He looked at the three of them and asked excitedly, "Have you seen Harry Potter?"

None of them replied, but the ginger didn't miss the girls suddenly look at the dark-haired wizard who was reading a book. It didn't take long for the boy to put the pieces together. He immediately sat down in the empty seat next to Harry and said, "Hi. I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

Daphne's eye twitched at the boy's rude behaviour. She had heard about the youngest son of the Weasleys before but hadn't had the pleasure of meeting him.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" asked Ron eagerly. "Like _the_ Harry Potter?"

"As opposed to some other Harry Potter?" asked Harry casually as he turned the page of his book.

"Do you really have the – the – you know – the _scar?_ "

Harry would have continued reading the book, but his irritation spiked; his eyes narrowed as he turned towards the redhead. "Does it look like I have a scar?" he said, referring to his unblemished forehead.

The scar on his forehead _was_ present, but this boy didn't need to know that. His forehead above his right eye had a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, but it was not as prominent as it used to be. The angry red mark was reduced to a thin, faint line after his house-elves had done something to it, but Harry usually covered it up whenever he was in public. He couldn't do it every day; it was too much of a bother, but for days like this ...

Ron spluttered. "But – but – everyone knows you have a scar! You're hiding it, aren't you?"

Harry tuned him out as he continued to read. He wondered if this was how Hogwarts was going to be, with people gawking at him and interrupting his quiet time. If that were the case, his time at the school was going to be harder than he thought.

The ginger, having not noticed, or just did not care that Harry wasn't paying attention, kept his monologue going, telling Harry about the different Houses of Hogwarts and how Gryffindor was the best. Daphne and Tracy were talking to each other in hushed tones when the door was rudely yanked open again. A girl with incredibly bushy hair and large front teeth peered inside the compartment.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" asked the girl in a bossy tone. "A boy named Neville has lost one."

Unfortunately, Ron Weasley was attempting to cast a spell on his rat, which prompted the girl to enter the compartment and sit inside without invitation. After she spoke in a condescending tone, she introduced herself after finishing a monologue about what all she had learnt. Harry noted that Daphne was barely able to conceal her annoyance at the Muggle-born girl's attitude.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"

" _Ahem_ – Ron Weasley."

When she turned to the others, the girls introduced themselves.

"Daphne Greengrass."

"Tracy Davis, nice to meet you."

When she looked expectantly at Harry, he nodded respectfully at her and said, "Harry Potter."

As expected, there was a gasp of surprise. "Are you really?" she asked excitedly. "I know _all_ about you of course. You're mentioned in –"

"You know _all_ about me?" Harry cut in sharply, his voice as always, devoid of any emotion, eyes narrowed. "That is quite presumptuous of you, Miss Granger."

Hermione huffed. Some people were so rude as to interrupt her, without giving her a chance to complete her sentence. "I have read about you in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts –"

"Yes, you have read about me in books. But don't try to presume that you know all about me. All those books which you've read are fabrications or speculation and some of them are pure fiction. Even their physical description of me is wrong. So please tell me in what sense of the word can you say that you know _all_ about me?"

Daphne and Tracy shared a look, looking quite surprised by Harry's defensive behaviour. This was not what they had expected from the Boy-Who-Lived at all.

Hermione couldn't, of course, take the insult to her books lying down, but she just huffed once more and left the compartment, thinking that Harry Potter was an arrogant boy whose fame had obviously gone to his head. Just when they were nearing Hogwarts several hours later, the compartment door opened again and a pale boy with a pointed face, grey eyes and white-blond hair stepped inside, flanked by two others.

"I heard that Harry Potter was in this compartment. Is that you?" he asked, looking at Harry critically.

Harry simply nodded and went back to his book. He really wished people would stop bothering him.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said, pointing his thumb towards his bodyguards. "And I'm Malfoy; Draco Malfoy. I don't know what you're doing, sitting with the likes of Weasley. You'll soon learn that some wizarding families are better than others. I can help you there."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Malfoy," said Harry, nodding to the blonde boy who had just offered his hand in friendship, not noticing the angry look on the face of Ron Weasley. "But I'm not looking for friendship at the moment, but I will, no doubt, keep your offer in mind."

With that, he went back to his book. Draco looked confused for a second, but his face cleared up. He smirked at Ron condescendingly, nodded to Daphne and Tracy and left the compartment.

Harry took a deep breath as the train stopped. They had finally reached Hogsmeade. After placing his book back in his trunk, he followed the girls out of the train. A half-giant who introduced himself as Hagrid led them across the lake to Professor McGonagall, a strict looking woman, who introduced them to the four Houses. When they were led into the Great Hall a few minutes later, Harry was quite impressed with the roof which had been charmed by Rowena Ravenclaw. It was truly a spectacular piece of magic.

The Sorting Hat opened its mouth and sang a song which described the virtues of the four Houses. Once it was finished, Professor McGonagall began calling out names from a sheet of parchment.

"Hannah Abbott!"

A pink-faced girl with pigtails shakily walked up and sat on the stool which was placed on an elevated platform, facing the rest of the students. The Hat was lowered on her head and within a few seconds, the brim opened as it shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table below the yellow and black decorations cheered for their newest member as the girl hurried towards them.

"Susan Bones!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Similarly, several other students were sorted as well. Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass were both sorted into Slytherin. Hermione Granger was sent to Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy went to Slytherin and when it reached the letter P, Harry could feel his pulse racing.

"Harry Potter!"

Just as Harry climbed up the steps, people started whispering everywhere.

 _"_ _Is that Harry Potter?"_

 _"_ _The Boy-Who-Lived? Wow!"_

 _"_ _He looks so cute!"_

 _"_ _Where's his scar? I can't see it!"_

 _"_ _Is that really him? Why does he not wear glasses?"_

 _"_ _Yeah! He looks nothing like the kid on the cover of the Boy-Who-Lived storybooks!"_

Harry ignored the whispers as he sat on the stool. When the hat was lowered onto his head, he heard a voice in his ear.

" _Oh, a natural Occlumens; how fascinating_ ," the Hat said quietly. " _Your shields are impressive, no doubt, but I can still see through them. Not to worry, I can't reveal your secrets. Now, where do I put you? No, Hufflepuff is out. You don't exactly have people you are loyal to, but I can sense that you will be very protective of those you care about. That House won't be suitable considering your reclusive nature. While you are certainly brave, Gryffindor won't do either. You'll probably kill every member of the House within a week if they continue to annoy you. Slytherin would be the best fit for you as you certainly are cunning and ambitious, but I can see that you don't care much for the politicking and system of hierarchy that dominates their House; you would tear them apart. You have a thirst for knowledge and you believe only in merit. Oh, knowledge is power, is it? Well, there is only one place for you, then!"_

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table under the blue and bronze banners burst into thunderous applause as Harry walked towards them. The Gryffindors were looking like they had been cheated. Indeed, the twins, Fred and George Weasley, were pretending to cry loudly as they banged their heads on the table. Harry silently sat down on the bench along with his classmates as the sorting continued.

Albus Dumbledore was quite surprised. This Harry Potter looked nothing like what he had expected him to be. The boy was one of the tallest in his year and looked quite fit. Dumbledore silently observed him for several minutes as he drew conclusions. Physically, Harry looked like any other eleven-year-old wizard (and in comparison, a fourteen-year-old Muggle, as witches and wizards matured faster than their non-magical counterparts, both physically and mentally), but was he emotionally stable after his stay with the Dursleys? He would have preferred the boy to be a Gryffindor instead, like his parents, but that was not to be. Not that Ravenclaw was bad, but it showed that Harry was driven by intellectual pursuits. A boy who was unsure of his place in the magical world would have been easier to deal with. However, _this_ Harry Potter radiated confidence. Seeing him dressed in expensive robes, with the Potter signet ring on his finger, enlightened Dumbledore that Harry was already aware of his heritage.

But that was not what made Dumbledore frown. It was due to the subtle similarities he had observed between two eleven-year-old boys, both of whom were orphans and having grown up in the Muggle world.

The way Harry carried himself troubled him. Such natural grace and poise was something he had seen only in one other person who had been at school fifty years ago. Harry's mannerisms bore an eerie resemblance to the young Tom Riddle. Dumbledore decided to keep a closer eye on the young Potter scion.

Back at the Ravenclaw table, Harry had to admit that the food prepared by the Hogwarts house-elves was quite good. He spoke to his housemates during dinner, but he realised he wasn't interested in befriending any of them. Harry had never had friends before and quite frankly, didn't think he ever would. He didn't see the point in it. Once the food disappeared and the golden cutlery cleaned, Albus Dumbledore stood up.

"Just a few short of term announcements. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students," the headmaster said. "Quidditch trials will be held two weeks from now, and any further clarifications will be handled by Madam Hooch."

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die of a most painful death."

Dumbledore's eyes observed the expressions of everyone in the hall. After several moments, he beamed. "That's it for tonight. Your beds await you. Good night!"

Harry tilted his head to the side slightly. Who tells someone not to go somewhere unless they wanted a painful death? Something seemed fishy. He didn't have time to dwell on the issue since the first years were instructed to follow a Prefect who would show the way to the dorms.

Harry followed the Prefect to Ravenclaw Tower and was immediately impressed with the common room. It was quite airy and looked peaceful. The best part about being in this House was that he would get a room for himself! When he entered his room, he realised that it was rather tiny, but there was nothing a few enlargement charms couldn't fix. He called for his house-elf who expanded the room to a large size, arranged his clothes in the cupboard and removed other necessities for him to use in the morning. Harry then spent several minutes warding the place with the enchantments he had learnt. They wouldn't hold up against someone like Dumbledore or any of the teachers or even the sixth year students, but these wards were unique in that they were known only to the members of the Potter family. At the very least, he would be alerted if someone was trying to mess with his room. Once done, he stripped off his clothes and went to bed.

The next morning, Harry found himself on the grounds, running around the perimeter of the Black Lake. He had been doing this ever since he was eight, so his stamina had built up over time. After thirty minutes, he felt hot and sweaty. Removing his shirt, he sighed in contentment as the cool air hit his bare chest as he ran and practised martial arts for another hour. Once he was finished with his daily workout, he made his way back to the tower to take a bath. His housemates gave him curious looks when they saw him all sweaty and pink in the face.

After getting dressed, he walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast, following the instructions on the map of Hogwarts which was given to him the previous night by the Prefects. He badly wanted his father's map of Hogwarts, but he didn't know where it was. James Potter's journal said that it was lost sometime during the end of their seventh year, so it was up to Harry to search for it. That was a gem and it would greatly help him.

Harry once more ignored people staring at him as he accepted his timetable from Professor Flitwick. "Mr Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you later this afternoon. Please come to my office when your classes are done," his head of house told him.

"Of course, Professor," replied Harry cordially.

The first class he had was Herbology with the Slytherins. Harry hadn't learnt much Herbology before even if he had read books on the subject. Practical Herbology was something he didn't care about, but ingredients and their properties were very important for Potions. Professor Sprout was a cheerful woman who asked them to form groups of three. Harry joined Daphne and Tracy since they were the only ones who he had conversed with.

"You surprised a lot of people last night, Potter," said Tracy as she re-potted the plant as instructed by Professor Sprout. "Everyone – and I mean _everyone_ – expected you to be sorted into Gryffindor like your parents."

Daphne acted as though she wasn't listening, but she was quite curious about his response to that statement.

"I don't know why people assume stuff about me," Harry shrugged. "As far as I know, none of them has seen me since I was a baby; or seen me at all for that matter. They don't know how I grew up or what my personality is like. I wasn't raised by my parents, so how could they assume I would go to Gryffindor like them?"

"True," nodded Tracy. "I was actually rooting for Slytherin."

"I qualified for Slytherin as well. It was a tie between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but I don't really care much for the hierarchy that I've heard is prevalent in your House. I refuse to bow down to anyone, so it would have been – _ahem_ – not as peaceful had I been sorted there. Ravenclaw is a better fit for me."

"Scared of the big bad Slytherins, Potter?" Pansy Parkinson, a mean-looking Slytherin, asked snidely.

"No. But I'm afraid killing someone who insults my mother due to her status as a Muggle-born is frowned upon in society. I wouldn't want the dungeons to become a bloodbath. But if you do have a death wish, I would be happy to oblige."

Pansy gulped. Someone in Potter's tone conveyed that he wasn't kidding when he said that. She turned away and many others were surprised by Harry's candid answer but didn't react to it. Daphne was thoughtful. Harry Potter was proving to be a mystery.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was quite lame, in Harry's opinion. Professor Quirrell seemed to be afraid of his own shadow and Harry was deeply disappointed that such an important subject was wasted on the fool. History of Magic, another important subject, was not being taught properly. Professor Binns, the ghost teacher, went on and on about goblin rebellions but didn't seem to teach the actual history of witches and wizards. There was so much about their past that people needed to know. History was one of Harry's favourite subjects, but this was beyond ridiculous. Charms was quite nice as Professor Flitwick was jovial in class. He had taught everyone the _Lumos_ charm and was quite impressed with Harry's control over his magic.

Harry realised that he would be dreadfully bored in classes if they continued at this pace. Maybe he could look into an accelerated program at Hogwarts. It would most certainly help, but those programs needed the approval of the Headmaster and his guardian, both of whom, unfortunately, was Professor Dumbledore, and Harry had a hunch that the former would not oblige.

Once classes were done for the day, he was escorted by Professor Flitwick to the Headmaster's office. The half-goblin muttered the password to the stone gargoyle.

"Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you, Mr Potter," said Flitwick.

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry quietly as he ascended to the Head's office by stepping onto the moving staircase. Just as he reached the oak door, he knocked twice and heard 'Enter' from inside. Harry opened the door and gracefully walked inside. His eyes widened slightly in awe when he spotted a scarlet phoenix, but the mask was back in place before Dumbledore could see it.

"Ah, Harry, come in," Dumbledore cried joyfully, his eyes twinkling. "Please sit down. Would you care for a Sherbet lemon?"

Harry took a seat on one of the plush armchairs in front of the headmaster. "No thank you, sir. I don't care for sweets much," he answered.

"That's a shame," Dumbledore said, as he took the candy and popped it in his mouth. "They are really quite delicious."

Harry simply remained still as he stared at the wall behind the headmaster. After about a minute, when Dumbledore realised that the boy wasn't about to take the bait, he sighed in resignation. "How are you, Harry? You have no idea how worried I've been for the past four years. I wish you had not run away from home like that."

"I never ran away from home, Professor," retorted Harry sharply. "I went _back_ home. If you're referring to Aunt Petunia's residence, I'm afraid you are incorrect in referring it as mine. I don't own it."

"I see," said Dumbledore as he looked at the boy critically. He was unusually composed for an eleven-year-old. It did nothing but remind him of the young Tom Riddle and he didn't like that comparison one bit.

"But you still ran away. There were protections placed around the Dursley residence, especially for you, my boy. I assume you know of Lord Voldemort, yes? I placed a complex enchantment on the house ten years ago, Harry. As long as you stay there and call the place home, Lord Voldemort's followers cannot touch you. With you having left Privet Drive ..."

Dumbledore sighed. "No matter, I'm sure the protections can be updated for this summer. I have already spoken to your aunt and she is most eager to have you back."

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Dumbledore mentally frowned when he saw the fire in Harry's green eyes. The boy's orbs were slightly glowing, but it was nothing to be concerned about. It was common among powerful witches and wizards, but what was clear was that Harry was angry. However, he found it unnerving that not a hint of emotion could be seen on the boy's face. How was that possible?

"I'm afraid that is not possible, Headmaster," said Harry quietly. "You may be my magical guardian, but you cannot force me back into that house. I will resist you. I'm pretty sure you already know why I ran away. Besides, if you think the protections around a stupid Muggle home is more complex than the ancient wards around Potter Castle, you are sadly mistaken. You yourself couldn't find me for four years, so what makes you think the Death Eaters can?"

"Those protections were placed due to the sacrifice of your mother, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "The blood wards around the Dursley residence would ensure that no one with ill intent would be able to enter as the wards are connected to you through your mother's sister. Please listen to me; as long as you call the place home, it would protect you from outside forces who wish to harm you. I'm only trying to protect you, Harry."

"But your enchantments won't protect me from the hostile forces inside that house," Harry shot back. "Feel free to use Legilimency on those worthless Muggles, sir, and you'll see exactly what happened there. Had my magic not reacted instinctively, I would have died or maybe suffered brain damage."

"From what I can infer from speaking to you now, you were the one to leave me there. I've heard enough from my relatives to know that you left me on their doorstep in the middle of the night with nothing more than a letter. Didn't you know how much Petunia hated my mother? I should never have gone anywhere near that filthy Muggle! It was your fault we are in this position, Professor, so don't try to manipulate me by mentioning my mother. It won't work."

Dumbledore paused. "Do you harbour a hatred for Muggles, Harry?"

Harry's expression suddenly turned colder. "I have homework to finish. Permission to leave, sir?"

Dumbledore sighed as he dismissed the boy. He watched Harry get up and walk out of the office, but just as he about to close the door, he turned back and said, "Sir, I would appreciate it if you returned my Invisibility Cloak. I'm not sure _what_ my father was thinking, giving it to someone outside the family, but I expect it to be delivered to me by tomorrow evening."

After the door closed, the aged man turned to his phoenix and said sorrowfully, "I think I have made a grave mistake, my friend. I should have been more careful. I should have ensured that the Dursleys didn't go overboard in their hatred of magic."

The phoenix trilled softly.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I'm not sure if Fawkes can breach any sort of enchantment, but from what I can infer from canon, there are probably wards that prevent phoenix travel. If Fawkes could flash Dumbledore everywhere, then things would have been quite easy to fix._**


	3. A shocking discovery

**_Chapter 3_**

 ** _A Shocking Discovery_**

Lord Cyrus Greengrass walked into his study in a daze. He couldn't believe it. He sat down and meticulously went over the contract again. He had just come back from a meeting with his solicitors. Why hadn't he known about this? If he had, he would have done something to ensure that his daughter wasn't trapped in a loveless marriage. Now it was too late. There was a time limit mentioned in the contract. Since so many years had passed without another Potter being born, the contract had activated.

He didn't have a choice. The contract was very specific. Should there ever be a situation where either family was reduced to one member alone, the betrothal clause would come into effect. Logically, since his daughter had not signed it, it wouldn't bind her to it. But unfortunately, the contract had been signed in blood, and because there was no escape clause expressly mentioned, the will of magic would determine if the contract was voided or not. If that were to happen, with magic having found his daughter and Harry Potter having violated the terms of the contract, it would be disastrous. The situation was still too unpredictable to comprehend. His solicitors had advised him to accept the terms of the contract without fighting it.

But how could he do that? This was his baby girl, his daughter!

"Any luck?"

Cyrus shook his head as his wife Elizabeth sat in the armchair by the fireplace. "It's iron-clad," he explained. "They have to get married before they turn twenty-one."

"Who's the boy's guardian?"

Cyrus scowled. "Albus Dumbledore. There is no way am I talking to that man about something as delicate as this. I –"

He was interrupted when he sensed an owl enter the wards and head directly for the study. A beautiful snowy white owl entered through the window and dropped a letter on Cyrus's table and took off.

"What a stunning bird," murmured Elizabeth. "Who is it from?"

"The object of our conversation," exclaimed Cyrus in shock. "Harry Potter!"

"Really? What does it say?"

Cyrus opened the letter and read it out loud. Harry basically said that he wanted to meet them during the Yule holidays to discuss the contract. He also wondered if Daphne knew about it because while they were acquaintances, he didn't want her to be in the dark for long. He also requested them to not contact Albus Dumbledore about the betrothal, since the boy wasn't comfortable with the headmaster knowing about it.

"Well, it looks like we have a new guest for our Yule Ball this year," said Elizabeth. "We can invite him here the day after the holidays start. And he's right; we better inform Daphne soon."

"I'll first send a reply to the boy," grimaced Cyrus. "I don't even want to think of the political ramifications of this betrothal. Daphne is going to be pissed, and she has every right to be!"

"Give her some credit, dear, she'll understand," Elizabeth said softly.

"I sure hope so," muttered Cyrus.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry received a letter from Cyrus Greengrass the next morning, inviting him to Greengrass Manor the day after the start of the Yule holidays. Harry sent a brief reply saying that he would be honoured to accept their invitation. The day continued with Harry's first Transfiguration class with the Slytherins. It proceeded without any issue. He was able to get the spell correctly on the first try. After lunch, he had double Potions with the Hufflepuffs. Harry knew a lot about Severus Snape from reading his parents' journals. It was quite satisfying to see both points of view, from James' angle and from Lily's as well.

The potions master had been best friends with his mother since before Hogwarts. Harry knew that Snape had been abused by his Muggle father and that abuse turned him into a very bitter individual. When he had met James Potter on the train to Hogwarts, he had insulted James' father, with the latter throwing insults back at the former, starting a rivalry between them that never ended, mainly due to both of them, according to James, having affections for Lily. Their hatred for each other had only grown over the years and had become a lot worse when James and Lily began dating in their sixth year. At first, Harry wondered if his father had gone overboard, but there were several instances that were written in both his parents' journals that recounted incidents where Snape had proved himself to be very dangerous. James Potter's attacks on Snape had been humiliating, but nothing dangerous. Snape's attacks on James Potter, on the other hand, were malicious and lethal.

Harry decided to keep his guard up in front of the potions master.

He entered the classroom and took a seat at the back of the class. The door of the classroom burst open and Snape strolled inside. When he began talking the roll call, Snape's eyes flickered to Harry as he said in a very soft voice, "Mr Potter; our new celebrity."

When Snape looked into Harry's eyes, something strange happened. Harry had to do everything possible to not cry out in pain or clutch his head as a memory slammed into his conscious mind.

 _"My Lord, I have important news," said a figure kneeling before him._

 _"What is it Severus?" he asked in a silky voice, red eyes boring into the black ones of his Death Eater._

 _"My Lord, I did what you asked of me. I went to Hogwarts to request a teaching position. While in the Hog's Head, the old fool was in the process of interviewing a Seer, Sybill Trelawney. At first, it was all senseless babble, but suddenly, she said in a weird voice that the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. Before I could hear more, I was discovered and was forced to flee."_

 _Red eyes narrowed in contemplation. Who had the power to defeat HIM? He was Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard that had ever existed. Surely this prophecy was fake?_

 _But what if it was genuine? He had to eliminate the threat._

 _"You have done well to tell me this, Severus. You shall be greatly rewarded for your loyalty. Bring Rookwood before me. I need to confirm this with the Department of Mysteries."_

Harry gasped as he exited the memory, clamping down his Occlumency shields as he did so. His hands were shaking, gripping the desk tightly as he listened to Snape talk about potions and their uses. He closed his eyes and tried to suppress a pounding headache that was driving him insane. What had just happened?

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, bringing Harry's attention back to the teacher. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry blinked for a second before his face became impassive again. "The Draught of Living Death, Professor," answered Harry promptly.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, Professor."

"Which is the potion that requires Lacewing flies, powdered bicorn horn, shredded boomslang skin and Fluxweed?"

"Polyjuice Potion, sir."

"Which potion uses Occamy eggshell and Ashwinder eggs?"

"Felix Felicis, the potion which is also called as liquid luck."

"Well, why are none of you writing that down?" barked Snape as people began scribbling in their notebooks furiously. He then gave them instructions to brew a simple potion on how to cure boils. He watched Potter like a hawk and his suspicion was confirmed.

The boy used all the spells needed to get the best of the potion; spells no first year was taught. Potter had charmed the rods to be self-stirring; the fire was magically controlled, including the temperature; a timer was set for the potion and a shield had been cast around the area. These were spells which were not taught to first years. In fact, they were not taught until N.E.W.T. level.

Snape watched as Potter meticulously and carefully cut his ingredients into equal parts. Not once did he look at the instructions on the board or in the textbook. He was also the first to finish as he filled a sample in a phial, charmed it to be unbreakable, and came to submit it to Snape. The potions master locked eyes with the boy and pushed slightly. When he encountered shields, he backtracked quickly. He didn't know if Potter had detected him, but since he didn't react, Snape knew that he had narrowly escaped.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"He's a natural Occlumens, Albus," said Snape grudgingly as he sat down in front of the headmaster. "There is no better theory to explain his strange behaviour. He has also been tutored by people who are well versed in Potions. The spells he uses; the way he cuts the ingredients and the state of the potion itself; he has been trained well."

"That is ... troubling," Dumbledore muttered, frowning slightly. "Did you try Legilimency?"

"Tried, but I encountered shields, so I was forced to withdraw immediately. I couldn't risk it without facing legal action. I barely managed to avoid detection, but he won't be able to prove it even if he had felt it."

Dumbledore grimaced. Harry was reminding him of the young Tom Riddle every day. Tom was also a natural at the Mind Arts since a young boy, just like he himself had been, though both he and Tom had favoured Legilimency, unlike Harry and Grindelwald who favoured Occlumency.

"Try to find out everything about him, Severus," said Dumbledore, stroking his beard. "He is quite an introvert, which is disturbing. I will keep an eye on him as well."

The headmaster exhaled tiredly. He was already forced to return the boy's Invisibility Cloak. James Potter had lent it to him, yes, but the man had demanded an Unbreakable Vow to give it back to Harry or Lily if something were to happen to him. That vow had compelled Dumbledore to return the cloak when Harry had asked for it. To think he was forced into surrendering one of the Deathly Hallows!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Two weeks passed without any incident. Ron Weasley tried to talk to Harry, but the latter didn't have the patience to deal with the fool. A compulsion charm ensured that the boy wouldn't bother him. Weasley's mind was surprisingly easy to control. Saturday morning, in the third week of September, Harry was sitting in front of the lake with a book in hand, under a tree. He was surprised when he saw a girl sit next to him.

"Hello, Greengrass. Can I help you with something?"

Daphne took a deep breath. It had taken her more than a week to come to terms with what had happened and she was finally here to meet him.

"I received a letter from my mother last week," she finally replied.

"So you know about the contract," Harry said softly. He flicked his wand in the air, casting a privacy charm around them both.

"Yes. While I'm not happy with it, I've come to understand that it's unbreakable, though my father says he will look into any loopholes."

"There aren't any unless you are willing to tempt magic and fate," muttered Harry as he closed his book. "I had my lawyers go through it thoroughly. I wasn't really pleased when I found out about the contract either, but I've had time to think things through. Look, Greengrass –"

"Daphne," she interrupted him. "Call me Daphne. We're betrothed, anyway."

Harry could hear the bitterness in her tone but decided to ignore it. "Okay then, Daphne, you may call me Harry. As I was saying, I'm not exactly your usual eleven-year-old wizard. I have seen you observing me for the past two weeks. That is something which you have come to realise as well. I know nothing about you and you know nothing about me. Frankly, I don't know where to start as I am at a loss."

He couldn't hide his frustration at that. Daphne looked at him and observed his face. There was no denying that he was very cute, but he was always cold. She wondered why that was. She too had been frustrated by the situation, but her mother had been able to advise her on how to proceed.

"Well, I have a solution," Daphne said slowly, catching his attention. "How about we start by being friends? We can get to know each other and hang out. What do you say?"

Harry thought for a minute as he tilted his head slightly. "Friends," he murmured. "I've never seen the point in having friends before. I was forbidden from having friends when I was younger. But perhaps you're right. Maybe being friends would help."

Daphne looked at him critically. What was he talking about? She came to understand that Harry Potter had a lot of secrets; secrets he wasn't willing to part with. Not that she cared. Her life wasn't really looking bright at the moment thanks to that bloody contract. She took a deep breath to hide her anger that was simmering. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't blame the Potter scion for the situation they were in; it wasn't his fault that he was the last member of his family. So, she held her tongue and spoke with what she hoped was a hostile-free tone.

"Friends it is, then."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry was prowling in the dark. It was now the first week of October and he was searching for a very important tool. He was wearing his family's invisibility cloak as he tried to locate it again.

"Point me, Marauder's Map," he whispered again. The wand changed direction again as he moved forward. Just as he entered a secret passageway, he was confronted by the Weasley twins.

"Hello, Harrykins," said one of them, grinning broadly. "What are you using? Disillusionment Charm? Invisibility Cloak? We know you are here!"

Harry smirked. The other twin had a sheet of parchment in his hand. This was far too easy.

A jet of red light was all that Fred and George saw before they were knocked unconscious. While Harry had observed that the twins were quite cunning, who would expect a first year to know a wide area stunning charm? Harry plucked the sheet from George's hand and activated it. He smiled as he saw the map of Hogwarts. He deactivated the map and put it in his pocket. Now all he had to do was ensure no one knew about the identity of the thief. He wasn't actually stealing it because it was a family heirloom, but he doubted the twins would be willing to part with such a treasure. He certainly wouldn't.

" _Confundo!"_

"You shall not remember seeing my name on the map. Both of you shall forever remember that the son of Prongs reclaimed what was his right by birth. You shall not go looking for the map."

" _Rennervate!_ "

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry spent the entire night browsing the map. It was truly a marvel in its making. Not everyone could create such a device. The only reason it worked was due to a drop of James Potter's blood which was used while enchanting it. The blood of the heir of Gryffindor was enough for the wards to connect to the map directly, displaying the location of everyone at Hogwarts.

A hint of an amused smile formed on Harry's lips as he saw many couples all over the school in various places of hiding, doing things no teacher would approve. Oh, the blackmail material this offered was huge! He saw the names of two sixth-year boys in a broom closet on the second floor; another boy and girl in the Astronomy Tower; another female couple in the prefect's bathroom. He didn't frown at the same-sex relationship. While it was rare, the magical world didn't look down upon something like that. The magical population only frowned upon those who didn't have children, but it was quite easy for two men to combine their DNA and have a woman carry the child. It was done in the case of every same-sex relationship. There were several other social stigmas in the magical world, but this wasn't one of them.

As his eyes darted to the Gryffindors, Harry had to bite his tongue from exclaiming in shock. No, this couldn't be! The man was supposed to be dead, wasn't he? What the hell was Peter Pettigrew doing in the dorms of the first years? Harry's eyes bulged out of its sockets. Ron Weasley's rat ... Peter's Animagus form.

 _Damn_!

He had to get the rat here, NOW!

"Tippy!"

The house-elf popped in front of him and said, "What can Tippy do for Master Harry?"

"Tippy, listen very carefully," said Harry as he gave his instructions.

Five minutes later, Harry smirked as he saw the stunned rat in the impenetrable cage he was holding in his hand.

"Very good, Tippy," he said quietly. "Take this rat and keep an eye on him. Feed him, but be very careful. I can't free my godfather without him being present."

"Yes Master," nodded Tippy as she disappeared with the cage.

Harry exhaled in relief as he slumped back on the bed. His parents' journals had mentioned that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, so Harry had been quite confused when he found out from the old newspapers that Sirius Black had been sent to Azkaban for betraying the Potter family. A few discreet inquiries had resulted in him knowing that his godfather had never gotten a trial. Harry wasn't exactly sure why he was doing this. He didn't remember his godfather, but his conscience wouldn't let an innocent man rot in prison.

He also couldn't help but feel that Sirius could be very useful. He was the scion of the Black family which held massive political power; well, _used to have_ political power at one point in time. The power of the Blacks had dwindled over the last ten years. New players like the Malfoys had taken control of what influence the Blacks had previously.

Now how was he going to get his godfather freed? Stripping nude, Harry slipped under the blankets and tried to sleep, but the question kept nagging at the back of his mind. One hour later, he suddenly shot out of bed and rushed to his trunk. Tapping it with his wand, he unlocked it and quickly summoned his father's journal.

His godfather, Sirius, had been engaged ten years ago. And it so happened that the person he was then engaged to, was now a woman who was in a position to help him. Harry only hoped that she would listen to him. After all, he was just a first-year Hogwarts student. Why would the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement listen to a mere eleven-year-old?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Amelia Bones looked at the letter with a glazed look in her grey eyes. A lone tear slid down her face and fell on the sheet of parchment. She had received it late at night, at her home instead of at her office, delivered by a beautiful snowy owl. It was a letter from Harry Potter. The boy was claiming that he had proof of Sirius Black's innocence. He hoped that they could to meet on the twenty-ninth of October in secret. Harry claimed that his proof was enough to get Sirius exonerated.

This was a letter sent by Harry, a boy Amelia hadn't seen since he was a baby. She crumpled the letter into a ball as she trembled due to anger and grief. Memories of all those times she had tried for guardianship with her offer being repeatedly rejected flooded once more into her mind. From what she had been able to find out ever since she became the Head of the D.M.L.E., Harry had been sent to live with his maternal aunt. Amelia remembered Lily telling her long ago that Petunia hated magic and that they didn't get along at all. Her heart clenched with guilt.

She had failed them all.

Taking a deep breath, Amelia walked to her bedroom and opened the wardrobe. She flicked her wand and disabled the concealment charm. She reached over and grabbed one of the photographs. There were several other possessions in the closet as well, including an engagement ring. In the picture, she and Sirius were standing side by side, grinning, with his arm around her waist.

Amelia collapsed against the wall, sobbing, holding the picture frame to her chest. She had never been able to get rid of it all. She had never wanted to believe that he had been guilty, but she, like everyone else, had been led to believe that he had been given a trial. If there was even a shred of proof that claimed that he was innocent ...

"I'll get you back, Sirius," whispered Amelia in a shaky voice, her cheeks stained with tears. "I promise that I won't let you down this time. And I'll do my best to make it up to you once you are a free man."

With that in mind, the Director of the British Magical Law Enforcement penned a letter to Harry Potter. She had a lot of planning to do.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **30th October, 2001**_

Harry was in a daze. His meeting with Amelia Bones had gone very well. They had met in the Shrieking Shack and he had Peter Pettigrew brought to the place by summoning one of his house-elves. Needless to say, Amelia was furious. She had assured him that she would handle everything from her end and also that a letter regarding the trial would reach him when it was due to be held.

But that was not why he was dazed. He spotted Daphne walking towards the Great Hall. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a nearby classroom.

"Harry, what are we doing here?" she hissed.

"I received a letter from your mother. It is an invitation to the Yule Ball at your manor."

"Oh. It was expected. We're betrothed, so it stands to reason that you'd be invited. Why is that a problem?"

Harry looked at her and blood rushed to his face. Daphne was quite amused because she had never seen Harry blush before. He was usually always in control of his emotions.

"I – I can't dance," he admitted quietly.

"You can't dance?" she exclaimed. Having been trained in different classical forms of dance since she was a four-year-old girl, Daphne was understandably horrified. "Why not?"

"It wasn't worth my time," said Harry defensively. "It was better to spend my time studying or practising martial arts. It wasn't even on my list of things I had to learn, but now ... I don't want to make a fool of myself at the ball. You told me that you're a trained dancer. Will you please teach me?"

Daphne's lips curved into an amused smile. "You want me to teach you how to dance," she stated.

"Yes," said Harry impassively. He didn't know why he was feeling nervous. It was just a stupid dance. He was quite proficient in martial arts; how different could it possibly be?

"What do I get in return?"

Harry smiled slightly. It was the first time Daphne had actually seen him smile. It was quite startling, but it enhanced his features more, making him look quite adorable.

"A true Slytherin, aren't you, Daphne? But considering the nature of our relationship, don't you think it is inappropriate to ask that of me?"

"I still don't know anything about you, Harry," she snorted, sounding annoyed. "How do you expect me to accept you as my fiancé if you don't tell me anything about yourself? I know that you don't like telling people secrets, but a general overview of your life would be enough. Is that too much to ask?"

Harry paused. She was clearly frustrated with him and truthfully, he couldn't blame her. His trust issues could be rather maddening to others who wanted to get to know him.

"Alright, you teach me how to dance and I'll tell you about my life. Deal?"

Daphne shook his hand. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Potter."

With that, she walked out of the room, not noticing the surprised yet admiring gaze of her fiancé.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The next day had been quite calm so far, but it didn't end that way. The last class of the day was Charms with the Gryffindors. Harry, as always, got the spell right the first time, earning more points for Ravenclaw. Hermione Granger, he realised, did not like coming second place in classes. She seemed to always want to be the first one to get the spell right, so Harry found out that he had unintentionally started irking her. Not that he cared.

After class, Harry and Daphne went to one of the abandoned classrooms in the north wing of the castle. Daphne seemed to have brought a music crystal with her. The crystal started playing classical music after she tapped it with her finger.

"You need to come closer, Harry," she instructed softly. She could see him fidgeting as she approached him. "Is something wrong?"

Harry swallowed as he whispered, "I don't like anyone touching me. It makes me uncomfortable. It brings back bad memories."

He had briefly told her about his time at the Dursleys just the previous evening. Daphne had been quite shocked about the way Harry had lived with his Muggle relatives. Of course, he had only hinted about physical abuse, but from the manner in which he flinched when anyone got too close to him, Daphne realised that he had been downsizing the entire ordeal. Since he had kept his side of the bargain, she decided to be patient. She held up her hands in surrender, giving him some space. Harry took a few deep breaths as he approached her. Green eyes met blue as they stood in front of each other.

"You'll need to place your hands on my waist," she instructed.

When he didn't move, she took his hands and placed them there. She then wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You'll have to relax, Harry," she said softly. "You'll never be able to dance if you are this stiff. You need to feel the music. I'm not going to hurt you or trick you. Please, trust me."

Harry looked into her eyes for any sign of deceit and relaxed marginally. Daphne showed him a few basic steps as they swayed to the rhythm. After half an hour, she cast a spell on them which would make them dance. However, the spell jerked their body movements in various different dance moves so it couldn't be used at a ball. It was way too embarrassing, but Harry took it in his stride. Mentally, he was wondering how efficient it would be to cast this spell during a duel. It could be countered easily, but it would prove to be a great distraction as well.

After a few hours, they stopped, breathing heavily. Harry smiled slightly, his eyes displaying the gratitude he felt within.

"Thank you so much for helping me, Daphne," he said sincerely.

"What are friends for?" asked Daphne as she left him with a smile of her own.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The Samhain feast was quite delicious. Pumpkins and candles were floating all over the Great Hall. Harry was quietly eating while occasionally talking to his housemates when Professor Quirrell burst through the doors of the Hall.

"TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! Thought you ought to know," he said and fainted on the spot.

There was silence for a few seconds before people started screaming. Harry wasn't sure why that was the case. Sure, trolls were dangerous, but why panic when they were all safe inside the Great Hall? The teachers could take care of the troll if it came anywhere near them. Dumbledore took control and ordered them back to their dormitories. Harry stood up and followed his housemates out of the Hall.

Just when they were ascending the stairs to the second floor on their way to Ravenclaw Tower, they heard a scream and a cry for help. Harry frowned as four Prefects immediately rushed towards the girl's bathroom from where the sound had originated. Like his more curious classmates, he couldn't help but follow them, wanting to see what was going on.

When they opened the door to the girl's bathroom, they encountered the troll trying to kill a student.

Just as the troll's club was about to pound Hermione Granger into mush, one of the Prefects pointed his wand at it and shouted, " _REDUCTO_!"

There was a flash of red light as the club was destroyed to bits. The troll looked at its attacker in anger, but the group of sixth and seventh years frantically shouted at each other to cast spells, their wands raised.

They acted.

" _BOMBARDA MAXIMA_!"

There was an almighty explosion as the troll was blasted away, destroying a good chunk of the wall and roof along with it. Granger seemed to be injured by the falling debris and was crying. One of the Prefects, Penelope Clearwater, levitated the debris away and helped her get up, just as the teachers arrived at the scene.

"In the name of Lady Morgana, what happened?" gasped Professor McGonagall.

Harry and the rest were quickly ushered back to the tower by Professor Flitwick as the teachers and Prefects handled the incident. Harry mentally frowned as he tried to understand the situation. From his experience in dealing with the wards around Potter Castle, he knew that Dumbledore should have known about the troll's presence. Did he knowingly let the troll roam around the castle or did someone actually block the headmaster's connection to the wards?

Both situations weren't desirable. He would have to think about this.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The month of November passed by without further drama, however, Harry kept his eyes and ears open. There was something strange going on at Hogwarts. He also corresponded with Amelia Bones who was taking care of the political aspects of the trial of Sirius Black. Harry couldn't really do much about that. He was only an eleven-year-old boy, after all. He had captured Pettigrew; the rest was out of his hands.

He had also used the time to look through the books regarding the accelerated program at Hogwarts. Apparently, it had not been done in the last century, but Harry was determined to get himself accepted into it. In the accelerated program, he would be able to finish his education in half the time. If that was possible, he would be able to take his N.E.W.T.s after his fourth or fifth year.

To ensure Dumbledore's compliance in the matter, he was looking for blackmail material on the old man. There had to be some way to twist the headmaster to make him agree to the program, but that couldn't happen until Sirius Black was released.

Harry knew for sure that Dumbledore knew about Sirius' innocence, but he couldn't understand why the former had thrown the latter in prison. He had a vague idea though. The memory that had flashed to him in his first Potions class had revealed a prophecy. He knew that it was Voldemort's memory, having felt the Dark Lord's emotions, but he wasn't sure how the man's thoughts were transmitted to him. He would need to ask Grandfather Alfred when he returned home for the holidays.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **AN: Thank you all for your reviews! I know that many of you are thinking that this is quite similar to Lightning Lord, but I promise the storyline will change. There will be differences, but the major change will take place just before the third year. Also, I would like to mention that Susan Bones was raised by her parents. I know that it is assumed by many that her father was Edger Bones, but according to Book 5, he wasn't. Both her parents were alive. Amelia was not the one who raised Susan in this story as well.**_


	4. Hello, Dogfather

**_Chapter 4_**

 ** _Hello, Dogfather_**

In the first week of December, the Wizengamot was in session again. Amelia Bones was prepared for this. The woman really knew how the political sphere worked. She had subtly transferred Sirius from Azkaban to a D.M.L.E. holding cell without anyone other than her most trusted Aurors knowing about it. Harry himself would be going to the meeting as a spectator. All he needed was permission from Professor Flitwick and he would get that once he showed the summons from Madam Bones herself.

So on the fifth of December, Harry found himself wearing an expensive set of robes with the Potter crest prominently displayed on his chest. He let Professor Flitwick lead him towards the front gates from where he used the Portkey given to him by Madam Bones which immediately led him to the Ministry of Magic. The welcome desk had a man sitting there.

The wizard asked in a bored tone, "Wand, please."

Harry passed his polished wand to the man who placed it on an instrument. "Fourteen inches; Yew with Thunderbird tail feather; used for four months?"

"Yes."

The man's eyes bulged in shock when he saw the crest on Harry's robes. His eyes darted to the faint scar on Harry's forehead, seeking confirmation. "You – you are –"

"Thank you for your services," Harry said quickly as he took his wand back, walking towards the golden lifts.

He exited at the appropriate level and entered the Wizengamot chamber after showing the security wizards the letter Madam Bones had given him. He ascended to the seats present for the visitors and watched as various members of the Wizengamot wearing plum-coloured robes moved towards their respective seats. Madam Bones nodded to him as she entered the chamber. The Chief Warlock was quite surprised to see him there. When Amelia cleared her throat, Dumbledore blinked his eyes to regain his bearings and began.

"Winter session of the Wizengamot on the fifth of December 2001 is now being called into session," said Chief Warlock Dumbledore. After he went through the necessary ceremony, he passed the floor to Madam Bones who had requested to speak.

"Members of the Wizengamot," she began, her voice booming. "While I'm aware that this is a legislative session, I hate to bring something of judicial nature into this which has been recently brought to my notice. Ever since I was appointed the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement seven months ago, I have been going through the records of all the old cases which were to be filed away. That was when I found this."

She took out a very thin black file and flicked her wand at it. Multiple copies were distributed to each of the members of the body as she continued. "This is the file that pertains to one Sirius Orion Black who has been denied a trial for the last ten years."

Pandemonium ensued. Dumbledore frowned. Why did Amelia bring the issue of Sirius' imprisonment now? It had been ten years; surely Sirius would have lost his sanity. He now remembered that Sirius and Amelia had been engaged before the former was thrown in Azkaban. He cursed himself for forgetting that, but also knew that he had taken necessary steps to ensure that nothing was brought to light. It pained him that an innocent man had to be sent to Azkaban, but there had been no alternative. He had not wanted Harry to grow up as a pureblood prince (which admittedly, he was anyway, but that was beside the point). He would just have to ensure the trial was inconclusive.

"How could you support that traitor?" shouted someone in the Wizengamot.

"Members of the Wizengamot, I'm only doing my duty!" shouted Amelia in fury. "I am the Head of the D.M.L.E. and it is my job to ensure that justice is carried out. A man was thrown in Azkaban without a trial for ten years. It is against the law!"

"Martial Law was in place then, Madam Bones," said Barty Crouch testily. "Besides, Black confessed to the crime himself. Everyone knows he is guilty!"

"That's not an excuse," snapped Augusta Longbottom. "Martial Law did not give you the power to throw people in Azkaban without due process, Mr Crouch. Where is the evidence for his crime? This file is useless in determining his guilt!"

"Albus Dumbledore also stated that Black was the Secret Keeper," cried another member angrily. "He is a deranged mass murderer! Send him back to the Dementors!"

"That cannot be done, Mr Doge," replied Amelia. "Every person has a right to a trial. It is one of our fundamental laws. We can't ignore them when we feel they aren't necessary!"

"Are you sure this case isn't _personal_ in nature for you, Madam Bones?" asked Lucius Malfoy smoothly. "After all, it is well known that you and Sirius Black were engaged before his imprisonment. I wonder where your loyalties truly lie."

Albus Dumbledore didn't even have to say anything. The rest of the Wizengamot was doing his work for him. He knew that Sirius being exonerated was bad for everyone. The liberals or the 'light' side would take the brunt of the calamity, while the traditionalists or the 'dark' faction knew they were in big trouble if the Black family were to gain strength once more. Lucius Malfoy was determined to make Draco the next Lord Black, so Dumbledore and Fudge calmly watched the proceedings, maintaining their silence.

"Members of the Wizengamot," said a loud, booming voice. Everyone turned in surprise when they heard the voice of a younger boy. Harry Potter was calmly standing before them.

"I am Harry James Potter, the godson of the very wizard who you all are talking about," he said quietly, though his voice was heard throughout the room thanks to the _Sonorus_ charm. "I'm deeply touched that all of you care so much about my family that you are not willing to let the betrayer of my parents go scot free. I too would be very angry if the man who was my father's best friend betrayed them to Lord Voldemort."

People flinched at the name, but Harry continued.

"However, in this case, I would like to know the truth. Would you deny me the right to know the reason as to why Sirius Black seemed to have betrayed my family? I'd certainly like to know because it would give me a sense of closure. Members of the Wizengamot, I appeal to you to help me finally put this matter behind me at last."

An old man scoffed. "Who are you, boy, to speak to us like that? You are merely a –"

"I'm merely a first-year student, yes, I know," said Harry, his tone slightly colder as he focused his stare on the old man. "Please keep in mind that you are currently sitting in _my_ seat, Mr Ogden. I took up the headship of my family, as per our laws, on my eleventh birthday. Your appointment was never notified to me. Your contract should have been ratified, but it wasn't. Your very presence here is not as per the law. While I can't stop you from being here, I do hope my guardian, the Chief Warlock, who appointed you, does uphold the law as he is mandated to do."

"I'm the only one alive who has vested interest in this case. I was the one who suffered because of the betrayal that led to my parents' deaths. For the past ten years, I have been hailed as a hero, named the Boy-Who-Lived and celebrated as the person who defeated Lord Voldemort. I've never asked for anything in return. But today, I come before you all to request that you grant Sirius Black a trial. I want answers from the man who supposedly betrayed his best friend. Could this body not listen to the pleas of an eleven-year-old orphan whose parents died for the people of this country? All I am asking from you is one trial ... nothing more."

The members of the Wizengamot were all silent. Some of them were looking ashamed while others looked thoughtful. Dumbledore frowned as he said, "Now Harry –"

"I believe it is _Mr_ Potter, Chief Warlock," corrected Amelia quietly.

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore corrected himself. "I believe you are too young to understand the workings of the political world. I didn't even receive a notice that you were out of school. Mr Ogden was appointed as a proxy by me. As your magical guardian, I have that right. Please do not worry. I shall ensure that the contract which appoints him as your proxy is ratified."

"Besides, I didn't know about you claiming headship!" said Ogden heatedly.

"That is not Mr Potter's fault," Madam Marchbanks said, frowning at the man. "A notice would have been automatically been sent to the Ministry when he claimed headship."

"We are getting away from the business at hand," interrupted Augusta Longbottom. "We are here to oversee the trial of one Sirius Black. You may object all you want, but the fact remains that no one can be denied a trial as per international magical law. Have you forgotten that, _Your Excellency_?" she asked pointedly while addressing Albus Dumbledore, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. "I.C.W. laws and regulations aside, a trial is a fundamental right which was decreed by King Arthur and Lord Merlin themselves! It cannot be ignored."

That was a clever move, thought Dumbledore as he mentally cringed. Bringing the last and beloved magical king of Britain and his trusted advisor into the picture ensured that it wasn't questioned. Amelia nodded to an Auror who escorted the frail form of Sirius Black into the chamber. Before anyone to object, she stood up and said, "Attorney for the defendant, Amelia Susan Bones."

People started murmuring and Sirius' head snapped up as he saw her, his grey eyes wide in surprise. Amelia stood next to her fiancé as Dumbledore began reading the charges which comprised of being a Death Eater, betraying the Potters to Voldemort, and the deaths of Peter Pettigrew and a dozen Muggles.

"How do you plead, Mr Black?"

"Not guilty of all charges," rasped Sirius.

"I believe my client has the right to defend himself," Amelia said. "I would like to hear the defendant say what happened in his own words."

Sirius looked like his birthday had come early. He quickly spoke about the attack on Potter Manor by the Death Eaters, about how James and Lily had decided to go under the Fidelius Charm on Dumbledore's suggestion, about how Peter Pettigrew was chosen as the Secret Keeper, about how he checked up on Peter that night but found the place deserted, how he arrived at Godric's Hollow to find the place in ruins, how Hagrid had demanded that Sirius hand over Harry to him, how he had gone after Peter and how the rat had escaped.

After several seconds of silence, Barty Crouch began yelling. "Preposterous! There is not a shred of proof to support your theory. You admitted that you killed them!"

"I did no such thing!" snapped Sirius angrily. "I as good as killed them because it was my idea to use Peter as the Secret Keeper. It was a perfect plan to throw Voldemort off their trail. None of us suspected Pettigrew to be a Death Eater!"

Amelia cleared her throat. "There is evidence, Mr Crouch, if you know where to look."

She took the cage from the Auror and reversed the transfiguration on the Animagus. People gasped as Peter Pettigrew appeared in front of them. Dumbledore's eyes widened. Where the hell did that man come from?

"Since Mr Pettigrew has officially been declared dead, there are no laws barring the use of Veritaserum. That is the only way we can prove his identity."

"I agree," said Lord Greengrass, looking interested. "Go ahead, Madam Bones."

Dumbledore felt like rubbing his temples as he realised that he had lost this round. He didn't focus on Pettigrew but he focussed on the eleven-year-old boy who was sitting in the seats meant for the visitors. Harry had done this masterfully. He was quite proud of the lad; very sneaky of him and Amelia Bones to do this right under his nose. Dumbledore sighed as he saw the shocked expressions on the faces of many members. The former Death Eaters weren't shocked; they all knew the truth.

"There is one other matter which provides information about Sirius Black's innocence," said Amelia. "I believe it is time we unsealed the Will of Lord James Potter."

People began whispering as Augusta stood up and said, "Seconded!"

When others saw Cyrus Greengrass nodding along, they whispered louder. Dumbledore, of course, did his best to not let the motion pass. He knew what was in the Will and he didn't want it to come to light. He explained how there was delicate information which could harm Harry Potter, but Cyrus Greengrass rebutted saying that a will of an Ancient House could not be kept sealed after another Head of House had taken his position. Since Harry had now rejoined the magical world, there was nothing in the Will that could be harmful to him any more than actually roaming around in public.

The decision passed by a majority and when it was unsealed, it showed a simple document which revealed quite clearly that Harry was to inherit the entire Potter fortune and properties. It also stated that Sirius was the oath-sworn godfather of Harry and that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper. The Will also mentioned the guardianship of Harry Potter, which was to go to either Alice Longbottom or Sirius Black, and it was expressly stated that Harry was to never go to Petunia Dursley. This quickly caused chaos, but Dumbledore, being the silver-tongued man that he was, tried to convince everyone somehow that he was not responsible. The traditionalists were incensed and even the liberals were not happy with their Chief Warlock.

"All those in favour of exoneration?" asked Dumbledore.

Several wands were lit as it passed through a majority.

"Sirius Orion Black, you are hereby cleared of all charges. The Wizengamot wishes to compensate you two and a half million Galleons for your unjust punishment. You are also ordered by the Wizengamot to register your Animagus form with the Ministry."

"Peter Pettigrew, you are hereby sentenced to Azkaban for life. Take him away."

Dumbledore looked at his pocket watch. "I believe we have exceeded the time for this morning's session. We shall continue after lunch. This session herby comes to a close!"

As the members slowly shuffled out of the room, Harry moved towards the former prisoner of Azkaban. "Hello, Mr Black," he said softly.

"Who – _Harry_? Is that you?" asked Sirius shakily, having recognised the emerald green eyes.

"Yes," he nodded. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"He was the one who found Pettigrew, Sirius," said Amelia quietly. "He was the one to push for a trial."

"Thank you, Harry," said Sirius gratefully. "I can't thank you enough."

Harry smiled slightly. "I'll see you during the Yule holidays. Take care of yourself. Thank you for your help, Madam Bones. Good day."

With that, Harry was gone. Amelia just looked at him and sighed. "Come on, Sirius," she said softly. "We need to get you to St Mungo's."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The news about Sirius Black's innocence took Magical Britain by complete surprise. People were shocked that an innocent man had been left to rot in a high-security cell at Azkaban for ten years without a trail. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, ever the politician, blamed the entire incident on former Minister Bagnold and Barty Crouch. Dumbledore too faced backlash, but the man was too influential for it to do any lasting damage to his reputation. Peter Pettigrew was sent to Sirius' old cell in Azkaban.

Music could be heard in one of the abandoned classrooms at Hogwarts. Harry smiled as he twirled Daphne and then pulled her in a dip.

"Wow, Harry!" exclaimed Daphne, smiling at him. "You've certainly improved. I'm impressed."

"I aim to please," he said, a hint of a smirk painted on his face. "So, who all are going to be at the ball?"

"Nearly the entire Wizengamot, I think, not to mention members of several other prominent families as well. There are parties throughout the year hosted by different people, but the Yule Ball is the grandest of them all. There is also a Ministry Ball, but it's not popular."

"I don't like politicking. All the people there just care about my last name or my fame; nothing else. It's so fake."

Daphne simply chuckled. After dropping her off at the Slytherin dorms, he was walking back up when Professor Snape stopped him. The man sneered at Harry and said, "Potter, the Headmaster wished to see you."

"I thought he might," said Harry smirking slightly.

Snape's lip curled but he turned away. He had tried to provoke Harry for months, but he had been unsuccessful. He knew it was useless to try again. Harry gave the password to the gargoyle and stepped inside. He was quite ready for this.

"Hello, Headmaster," he said as he entered. "You wished to see me?"

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore frowned. "I was under the impression that you would be staying at Hogwarts over the winter holidays, but you have not signed on this list."

"Why would I want to stay at school during the holidays? I'm going back home."

"I assume you have not reconsidered your decision to return to Privet Drive?"

The boy just looked at Dumbledore coldly. "That is never going to happen, so forget about it, sir. Now, there was something I wanted to talk to you about." With that, Harry passed a file with the necessary documents he had filed.

"The accelerated program?" asked Dumbledore, surprised.

"Yes. The current pace at Hogwarts is too slow for me. I don't want to die of boredom. The accelerated program will ensure that I reach my full potential."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "But I cannot allow this. The rest of the students would accuse me of favouritism."

"Is it only because of people accusing you of favouritism that you don't want to approve this? Or do you have another reason for denying me a chance to learn and grow? I don't know what your plans are, Professor Dumbledore, but I do know that they involve me somehow."

Harry paused and continued. "I know that it was you who suggested to my parents go under the Fidelius Charm after Potter Manor was attacked the second time. If my parents were smart, they would have gone under the war wards around Potter Castle. The fact that they moved to Godric's Hollow without complaint suggests that something sneaky was involved."

"I also know that it was you who cast the Fidelius Charm on the cottage, so you knew exactly who the secret keeper was and yet you threw Sirius Black in Azkaban without a trial. I may not have proof that is admissible in court, but my evidence is enough for the media. You kidnapped me, the scion of the House of Potter, and violated the Will of the previous Lord Potter _knowingly,_ but that charge won't stick as you managed to wiggle your way out of it two days ago. I also know that there is a prophecy involved about me and Lord Voldemort and that you employed the same man who is responsible for my parents' deaths in this school."

"If people were to know about Severus Snape's involvement in my parents' deaths, what would happen to him? Or your reputation, for that matter? You are a very powerful wizard, sir, but the public would not forget this so easily right after information about Sirius Black's illegal incarceration was revealed to them. And I have not even mentioned the role you played in my placement at the Dursleys. 'Boy-Who-Lived nearly murdered by Muggle relatives' is a very catchy headline and I don't need to point out the international backlash you could face."

Dumbledore sat completely still for a minute. He didn't know how Harry had found out about the prophecy and Severus' involvement in it, but the fact that he had, was dangerous, not to mention suspicious. His eyes had lost its twinkle as he said, "I think the Sorting Hat placed you in the wrong House, Harry."

"I'll sweeten the deal for you, sir," Harry said quietly. "You want me here for the next seven years; fine. Once I finish my N.E.W.T.s, I will stay here until I finish my Master's degree in the fields I want. Professor Babbling has two apprentices, does she not? Professor Flitwick's apprentice just left last year from what I was able to gather. I'm sure this arrangement would benefit both of us."

Dumbledore smiled very faintly. He had underestimated the boy, but he now knew exactly what to expect the next time. It wouldn't happen again; he would make sure of it.

"I'll need to discuss this with the rest of the staff," he said as he looked at the file.

"You can do that after signing that, sir," said Harry stubbornly.

"I'm sorry Harry, but it is not for debate," said Dumbledore firmly. "I will need to talk to my staff and I will let you know once you return for the second term."

Harry gritted his teeth and left, having been dismissed.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The Floo at Greengrass Manor flared up as Harry Potter stepped out of the fireplace. He involuntarily flicked his fingers as the soot vanished. He could immediately see the family resemblance as he saw the beautiful woman in front of him.

"Welcome to Greengrass Manor, Mr Potter," Elizabeth greeted him warmly.

"Thank you, Lady Greengrass," Harry smiled faintly, giving her a wrapped box. "Please accept this gift as a thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Elizabeth smiled as she accepted it and led him to the formal drawing room. When Harry entered, Cyrus got up from his seat and smiled. "Mr Potter, welcome to our home. It's nice to finally meet you."

Harry bowed slightly in respect as per their customs. "The honour is mine, Lord Greengrass," he said while moving to sit on the sofa.

"Daphne hasn't told us much about you, Mr Potter," Cyrus said after a pause. "She said she wouldn't betray your trust by revealing your secrets, even to us. We certainly understand that, and Elizabeth and I are happy that the two of you are getting along, but that hasn't made us any less apprehensive. You've been an enigma, of sorts, ever since that fateful night. I have never put much faith in the Boy-Who-Lived books, but I do have a few questions."

When Harry nodded, Cyrus took a deep breath and said, "I understand that Albus Dumbledore is your guardian."

Harry understood immediately. "There is no need to be alarmed, Lord Greengrass. The headmaster and I share a tense relationship. Believe me when I say I don't trust that man. I'm sure you were able to reach similar conclusions after Sirius Black's trial."

Cyrus nodded. He knew that Dumbledore had something to hide regarding Sirius Black. The old man had clearly known about Black's innocence, but there was no definite proof.

"However," Harry continued, "it is also a fact that Albus Dumbledore, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, is one of the most politically influential people in the world. He is also my current magical guardian, even though he obtained the position using covert means. What you must know is that it is only a matter of time before I have someone else claim guardianship of me. After that, Chief Warlock or not, Albus Dumbledore will not be able to interfere in our affairs."

Cyrus and Elizabeth looked at each other. They were dealing with a cunning, manipulative boy. If they didn't know better, they would say that he was raised by a traditionalist family.

"My lawyers have gone through the betrothal contract, Mr Potter," said Cyrus. "And yes, there is no way out. Daphne may be handling this situation well, but that doesn't mean I would want to condemn her to a loveless marriage. My daughter is a very ambitious girl and I don't want her dreams to be shattered because of this predicament we find ourselves in."

Harry smiled slightly. "I don't expect anyone to give up their dreams for me, Lord Greengrass. I'm also stuck in the same betrothal contract against my will. I'll admit that I was very angry when I was informed about it, but Daphne and I have become friends over the past few months. I'm hoping that our friendship would strengthen over time, but I can assure you that I'm not interested in your daughter because of the money and influence she has to offer."

"You are surprisingly mature for your age," said Elizabeth slowly. "Not many eleven-year-olds would deal with politics the way you do, even for heirs of noble families."

Harry paused, wondering how much to reveal. "I was forced to grow up because of the manipulations of Albus Dumbledore, Lady Greengrass," he explained carefully. "You can read between the lines when I say that a magical child does not belong in a Muggle home. There were several _incidents_ over the years which gave me a new perspective on things. I decided that I would not get crushed by anyone, especially not by the filthy Muggles that I am unfortunate enough to be related to."

Cyrus and Elizabeth were shocked. The Boy-Who-Lived was more traditionalist than anyone realised. Well, maybe not complexly; they didn't know him well enough to figure out his political views, not to mention he was still quite young for them to judge such matters. But one thing was certain. This young wizard was not a champion for Muggles like Albus Dumbledore had claimed him to be, which did ease their concerns a little.

"You say that you were raised by Muggles and yet you behave like a perfect pureblood," observed Elizabeth.

"I escaped my relatives when I was seven years old, Lady Greengrass," he clarified. "I've been living at Potter Castle, my clan's ancestral home, for the past four years. Dumbledore had no idea where I was and did his best to track me down, without success. Had the Ministry figured out that I was missing ..."

He didn't need to finish that sentence. He knew exactly what would have happened to Dumbledore. The public would have been crying for his blood for losing their precious saviour.

"Well, it's nice to get things clarified," said Cyrus, as he stood up. "Please, let us adjourn for lunch."

Lunch for a joyful affair as the Greengrass elders dropped their serious masks and instead, smiled and laughed along with their daughters. Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, was quite astounded that she was sitting next to the Boy-Who-Lived. She kept asking him if he had really slain a dragon at the age of three and done the other heroic things. Daphne laughed when she heard Harry mutter under his breath about 'meeting his lawyers about those books.'

"I mean seriously," said Harry, shaking his head in exasperation. "How can a three-year-old boy tame or kill a dragon? If I spot a dragon, I'll get out there as quickly as possible. I don't have a death wish."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin," Cyrus laughed.

Harry shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with self-preservation. It is human nature. While it's true that I have Gryffindorish tendencies, it's quite rare. I could have been easily sorted into Slytherin, but I like Ravenclaw better. At least people there leave me alone. I don't have the patience to deal with mindless minions."

They all chuckled as they entered the drawing room again. Harry relaxed a bit after spending time with the Greengrasses. He couldn't detect any aura of deceit about them, so he decided to drop one of his masks, temporarily.

"Hogwarts has an accelerated program?" asked Elizabeth in surprise.

"Yes," answered Harry as he took a sip of water. "I would be bored out of my mind in case I had to spend another semester like the last. Sure, I can study on my own, but this is different. The classroom experience does help as they explain the theory better, not to mention I'll learn faster with the help of a teacher. I'm not sure if it's completely possible, though."

"Are you sure that Dumbledore will allow that?" asked Cyrus, his eyebrows raised.

Harry shrugged but didn't elaborate. He didn't owe the Greengrasses any explanation regarding most aspects of his life. He had given them enough information to keep them satisfied, but he wasn't about to reveal more.

A frown formed on his face when he suddenly remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot," Harry said as he got to his feet and removed a small box from within his pocket. "Lord and Lady Greengrass, since your daughter and I are to be married because of the contract, I would formally like to ask your permission in presenting her with a betrothal ring."

"Of course, Mr Potter," Cyrus nodded, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He had not expected that from an eleven-year-old boy. He was quite impressed with the Potter scion for sticking to tradition, and so was his wife. Harry opened the small box and showed it to Daphne who looked at it in awe.

"This is the betrothal ring that was given by Raphael Potter to his wife, Aradia Peverell, in the fourteenth century," he explained. "It has been in my family ever since. The centre stone is a very rare magical blue diamond and it has several small white diamonds surrounding it. From what I've been told, Aradia Peverell was an enchantress, so there are several protection charms on the ring. I would like you to wear it, Daphne."

Daphne was stunned, but she regained her wits and nodded. She extended her hand and Harry slipped the ring on her left ring finger. The ring flashed as it resized to fit her. She smiled at him, moving closer to give him a gentle hug. Harry stiffened in panic, something which was not unnoticed by the elder Greengrasses, but Daphne pulled back, knowing how he would react.

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly. "It means a lot to me."

"So, what exactly should I do to prepare for this ball?" asked Harry, changing the topic as he took another sip from his glass of water.

"Nothing much," said Elizabeth. "Ensure that you are well-dressed as it is something that is noticed by everyone. The first impression is the best, after all."

"Do you want to announce the betrothal to everyone during the ball?" asked Harry.

Cyrus paused. "That is something which I was thinking about. As I mentioned before, the political ramifications will be huge. We'll have to think about this carefully, but I do think it's better if we announce it at the ball. At least that way, we control it. What do you think?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really care one way or another. It saves me the time to explain it to others later."

After a few hours, Harry Flooed back to Potter Castle. That night, he and the ghost of Alfred Potter were in the Lord's study.

"A memory?" asked Alfred shrewdly. "A memory that belonged to Voldemort? Are you sure, Harry?"

"Positive, Grandfather," said Harry. "When I heard Snape speak, there was a trigger. I was looking down at Snape; I was Voldemort. It was from his perspective, so it had to be his memory. In the memory, Snape mentioned a prophecy; a prophecy that foretold that a boy would be born at the end of July who would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord."

"Dear Merlin," exclaimed Alfred as he drifted across the room. "Do you remember what I said to you about the elves sensing a possession in you when you arrived four years ago?" When Harry nodded, the ghost continued. "The possession was extracted and destroyed by the elves. We didn't know then whose it was. We thought it was some dark force which had latched on to your magic. That is very rare but possible. But to think it was Voldemort ..."

"Is it possible I somehow tapped into his memories during the extraction ritual?"

"But how is that possible? No, we're missing something. I'm not an expert on dark magic, Harry, so I don't know. And it's not like I can read the books in the library."

Harry sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "Maybe it was a one-time occurrence. I'm going to bed. I need to visit my godfather tomorrow. Goodnight, Grandfather."

"Goodnight Harry," said Alfred as he floated through the wall of the study.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN : As I had mentioned in one of my other stories, James, Lily and Sirius are five years older than canon. Therefore, when James and Lily died, they were twenty-six, not twenty-one. When Amelia died, she was mentioned in Book 6 that she was a middle-aged woman, so that could also be interpreted as someone in their forties. Amelia here is two years older than Sirius, so she is currently thirty-eight years old._**

 ** _Thank you all for the reviews!_**


	5. A leap forward

**_Chapter 5_**

 ** _A Leap Forward_**

The next day, Harry made his way to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in London. Sirius was still there, getting his body repaired due to the damage caused by his prolonged stay in Azkaban. After the routine security check, he was led to one of the private suites. He knocked on the door and entered to find Sirius reading the _Daily Prophet_.

"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius, with a broad smile on his face. "Come on in."

Harry smiled slightly as he sat down on one of the armchairs. "How are you doing?"

"Just fine," he answered dismissively. "It'll take another few weeks of healing before my body stops looking so frail, but I'll still have to seek the help of a Mind Healer for another year to come to terms with what happened. I'm just glad most of the damage can be repaired."

Harry saw that Sirius' eyes still had a haunted look. After an awkward pause, the man exhaled. "Look, I know that it has been ten years –" began Sirius, but Harry interrupted him.

"Why did you hand me over to Hagrid instead of taking care of me?" he asked suddenly, the barest hint of anger and hurt colouring his voice. Sirius was, after all, his godfather and closest family after his parents had been murdered.

Sirius sighed. "I expected this question ever since I revealed it at the trial. It's not like I had a choice, Harry. Look at it from my point of view. Pettigrew had disappeared and I found out that he had betrayed your parents; I had just seen the corpses of the two people who were the closest to me; my godson was crying his heart out and it took me several minutes to calm you down and put you to sleep. Just when I was about to leave, _Hagrid_ , of all people, showed up and demanded that I hand you over. I protested; I swear I did, but you can't really reason with Hagrid, especially when he has been ordered by _Dumbledore_."

He literally spat out the last word. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued. "I didn't want to fight him, so thinking you would be safe at Hogwarts, I handed you over to him and went to find Peter. I was blinded by rage, I admit. It was foolish of me to do so, not to mention reckless. My first priority should have been you. But you have to understand Harry. At that point in my life, James was closer to me than my own brother. Sure, we were second cousins, but we were more like siblings! Losing him and Lily blinded me to what should have been done. I failed you and I'm really sorry about that. Can – can you forgive me?"

Harry looked at the older wizard for several seconds. A small smiled played on his lips as he finally nodded. He didn't know if he could ever have a relationship with his godfather, but it wouldn't hurt to try. He would also need Sirius' help if he were to get a new guardian. Sirius looked relieved.

"So, you're engaged to Madam Bones?" asked Harry, changing the subject.

Sirius nodded slowly, his face burning with fury. "Yes," he admitted. "But I'm not exactly in a forgiving mood. _Everyone_ believed that I was guilty of betraying your parents, including Amelia. It should not have been possible because I am your oath sworn godfather! But no ... that fact was easily forgotten as I was branded a Death Eater and the so-called right-hand man of Lord Voldemort! How could Amelia, of all people, think I would be capable of something like that?!"

"I'm not sure what her motives were ten years ago, but Sirius, do you have any idea of the political manoeuvres Madam Bones did behind the scenes to get you into that courtroom?" asked Harry slowly. "I don't have a clue about what she did, but I'm pretty sure that it was nothing short of a miracle that she got you out of Azkaban and into the Ministry building at all. Yes, Dumbledore set you up knowing you were innocent. Barty Crouch just wanted to show that he had captured a Death Eater. Lucius Malfoy wanted your title and money. Those are dangerous combinations, Sirius. If I had not captured Pettigrew through pure dumb luck, it would have been impossible for you to have been cleared of any wrongdoing. All of them wanted you imprisoned for their own benefit."

Sirius snorted. "I guess my mother was right," he said wryly. "Never trust anyone."

"I agree with her," nodded Harry. The older man sighed. No eleven-year-old child should say something like that.

"I'm really sorry you ended up with Petunia, of all people," grimaced Sirius. "I know that she is a nasty horse-faced bitch."

"It's fine," said Harry stiffly, wanting to avoid that topic. "I escaped when I was seven years old. My life has been much better since. There is something else you should know. Because of a contract set up by my ancestor, I'm now betrothed to Daphne Greengrass."

"Betrothed?" exclaimed Sirius, his eyes wide with panic. He was in shock for a few minutes as Harry explained the situation to him. He finally calmed down, but still looked wary. "The Greengrass family? I know that they are quite neutral in their political dealings, but there were no Death Eater activities linked to them during the war. Be careful, Harry. Maybe I should talk to them on your behalf as such families are deep-rooted in tradition."

"Yes, I think you should."

Traditionally, Harry should never have met Lord and Lady Greengrass without his guardian, but the circumstances did not, unfortunately, permit the interference of Albus Dumbledore.

"Also, I was wondering if you would like to be my guardian. I've accepted the headship of my family, but I still need a guardian until I'm seventeen. Dumbledore is currently my regent and guardian –"

The older man sat up straight. "Do you have the papers?" he asked sharply, interrupting the boy.

Harry handed over a file containing sheets of parchment which Sirius read through, frowning in concentration. Fifteen minutes later, he grabbed a quill and signed his names on multiple copies. The documents glowed. A copy was automatically submitted to the Ministry of Magic, another to Gringotts and a copy remained with Harry. Since his godfather was his primary guardian as listed in James Potter's will, not to mention the closest blood relative, the guardianship transfer could be done automatically. It could be rescinded by the Wizengamot if someone raised a petition against it and if the body ruled against Sirius, but right now, no one would be willing to do that. The Sirius Black scandal was already tearing the Ministry in two.

"Thank you, Sirius. When are you claiming your Lordship?"

Sirius rubbed his face. "Once I'm out of this place. I'd actually thought that I was disinherited; my mother certainly would have done her best to see that happen. But from what I found out last week, my father Orion didn't think it was a good idea. After all, he had one son on either side of the war. It was practical to keep his options open so that he could side with the victor once the war was over. I have a lot of work to do once I'm free."

"I'll send you another contract which appoints you as my regent on the Wizengamot," said Harry.

Sirius nodded. They then spent the rest of the afternoon talking, with Sirius telling Harry stories about his parents. Harry was actually quite interested to know more about them despite the fact that he had read their journals. After a few hours, Harry decided to leave.

"I'll be attending the Yule Ball at Greengrass Manor tomorrow. How about we meet after that?"

"Sure, that will give me some time to talk to Amelia," said Sirius softly, looking conflicted. Harry soon went back home.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The evening of the twenty-first of December saw many important people of the British magical world at the ancestral manor of the Greengrass family. At Potter Castle, Harry checked himself in the mirror. He was wearing greyish blue Acromantula silk dress robes, tailor-made to fit his body perfectly. He was also sporting dragon hide boots and his silver locket with the Potter crest was hanging prominently over his chest. Once he was ready, he made his way to the Floo and disappeared in a flash of green flames.

When he stepped out of the fireplace at Greengrass Manor, he immediately dispelled the soot that might have collected on him. There were many people milling around the place. A house-elf led him to the Grand Ballroom where several prominent members of the British magical society could be seen. Harry searched for his fiancée and relaxed when he finally spotted her.

"Hey Daphne," he said quietly. The girl in question turned and smiled at him. Her wavy dark-blonde hair was expertly styled. She was wearing a flowing purple dress made of multi-layered thin fabric. "You look beautiful," he said after a pause, feeling a bit uncomfortable. There was still some awkwardness between them, not having figured out each other's personalities. Harry mentally decided to spend more time with Daphne at school when the next term began. After all, he did agree to befriend her.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling shyly. "You're looking quite good yourself. Come on, there are several people who want to meet you."

And thus the evening began; Harry spent the next hour meeting many of his schoolmates; some of them were in his year, but many were older than him. They were all curious about him because he didn't really talk much at school, having chosen to be by himself. Harry made it a point to talk to everyone, even if it was frustrating to socialise. He was then dragged to meet the older people. At one point, he met someone who had a powerful, yet dangerous aura about him.

"Mr Potter," said the man smoothly. He nodded his head in greeting. "Lucius Malfoy; it is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Malfoy," said Harry as he bowed slightly in respect. "Lady Malfoy."

The woman merely inclined her head. "Nice to finally meet you, Mr Potter," she greeted him. "I was wondering if my cousin was here too. It's been far too long since I've last seen him."

"He's still recovering from his terrible ordeal, Lady Malfoy," replied Harry, with a tight smile on his face. "I doubt it's a good idea for him to come to a large gathering such as this so soon after being released from Azkaban. What happened to him was a travesty. So many people seem to have an unhealthy interest in him. To think they could stoop so low ..."

Lucius' lips curled. "Yes indeed," he said softly. "None of us are able to digest that Albus Dumbledore could do such a thing. Sending an innocent man to prison without a trail ... I wonder if he is fit to be the Chief Warlock anymore."

Harry took a sip of his drink as he pondered the answer. Was that a trap? He realised that he would have to pay more attention to how people speak and how to respond to trick questions. He really had to develop his social skills, for they were lacking. "That's not something I can answer, Lord Malfoy. As you know, I'm not eligible to sit on the Wizengamot yet or mature enough to make such decisions. I'm only eleven, after all. However, Lord Black, my guardian, would be more than happy to talk to you about it."

"Lord Black?" repeated Lucius, with his forehead creased and eyes narrowed. "I believe there is no Lord Black alive as of this moment. Arcturus Black died several months ago. A pity; it will take several years for the House of Black to rise to its former glory."

"Several years?" asked Harry, feigning shock. "I'm not sure what you mean. My godfather, Sirius Black, claimed his lordship just this morning."

Harry was mentally cackling in delight as he saw Narcissa pale slightly. It was true. Sirius had gone to Gringotts just that morning and claimed his Lordship. He would have to tell his godfather about this. It was priceless! Who knew that such an innocent statement could cause so much damage? He would have to use it repeatedly while talking to others so that they would know about his godfather's new position too.

"Sirius Black?" whispered Lucius, his eyes burning with fury. "I don't think you understand, Mr Potter. Sirius Black was disowned by his family and was branded a blood-traitor."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "I'm afraid you are mistaken, Lord Malfoy. Lord Black wasn't disowned at all. While it is true that his mother did push for it, Lord Orion Black tended to be a bit more practical in his approach. As someone said, it was a very wise thing to do considering he had one son on either side of the war. I'm sure he would want to talk to you very soon. You are, after all, _family_."

Lucius looked into the emerald green eyes of the boy in front of him, trying not to let the nervousness and anger show. The Blacks were notorious for their blackmail material; if Sirius Black had indeed gained the Lordship, there was no telling what information he had at his disposal. He would have to think things through.

"It was good meeting you, Mr Potter," said Narcissa as she led her husband away, whispering heatedly in his ear.

The ball continued for several hours as dinner was served soon after. Harry stuck to Daphne the whole time, letting her introduce him to important people, one of them being the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.

"Ah, Harry Potter," the wizard exclaimed jovially. "It is simply marvellous to see you, young man. How wonderful it is that you're finally able to join us!"

"It's an honour to meet you as well, Minister Fudge," Harry greeted him. "I've heard wonderful things about you. I apologise that my godfather is not present here tonight. Lord Black is still feeling under the weather because of his unlawful incarceration, but he told me to send you his regards."

" _Lord Black_?" blanched Fudge. After regaining his bearings in a matter of seconds, he forced a smile on his face again. "In that case, please let him know that I wish him a speedy recovery. I can't believe the previous administration allowed such a travesty to occur. It's something I cannot even comprehend!"

"Indeed, Minister," nodded Harry in agreement. "You certainly are a respectable man and I thank you for all that you have done to help my godfather."

"Oh, no thanks necessary, Mr Potter," said Fudge, smiling brightly as he puffed up at the praise. "Please tell Lord Black that he can visit me anytime once he has recovered. It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"Of course, sir. You are the Minister of Magic while I am just an eleven-year-old schoolboy. You have every right to address me by my first name. Please take care of yourself."

"That I will, Mr Potter, Miss Greengrass," he said as he walked away.

"And you were telling me you didn't like the politicking that went on in Slytherin?" whispered Daphne angrily in his ear. "What else are you doing now? You keep mentioning to everyone that your godfather is Lord Black, you mentioned his illegal incarceration too many times to count, and the way you handled Fudge was ... well, you pushed his buttons ... wait, how would you know to do that?"

"I was tutored by your father over the Floo last night," shrugged Harry. "I wouldn't have lasted five minutes with these people if not for him. I barely know how to talk to my classmates, let alone several politicians and businessmen. But it was a good experience, even if very annoying. I still have a lot to learn."

Just then, they heard the sound of clinking glasses. Everyone turned to see Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass standing at the end of the ballroom.

"My wife and I would like to thank all for being here tonight," said Cyrus. "But this ball is not just about us all socialising with each other or celebrating Yule; it is to announce the newest member of our family. We met him only recently after circumstances forced us together, but we hope to develop a strong bond with him in the days to come. I would like to take this opportunity to tell everyone present that because of a contract signed by one of my ancestors, my eldest daughter Daphne is betrothed."

There were whispers throughout the room as people tried to guess who the boy might be. Some were smart enough to realise who Cyrus was talking about; Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's faces reddened in anger but they both kept their tempers in check as they drew conclusions. After all, the said boy had been with Daphne Greengrass the entire evening.

"This betrothal contract was created by Lord Steffen Greengrass and Lord William Potter more than one hundred and fifty years ago and seems to have come into effect recently. My wife and I would like to take this moment to toast Harry Potter, the newest addition to the Greengrass family."

Harry simply smiled and nodded to the couple respectfully as people started clapping, though somewhat hesitantly. There were many discussions going on about it, so when the music resumed, people immediately congregated around Harry and Daphne on one side and Cyrus and Elizabeth on the other, all wanting answers.

"Betrothed?" Tracy exclaimed in awe. "Wow!"

"That wasn't our first reaction, to be honest," said Daphne wryly.

"Why not?" asked Theo Nott, frowning.

"Because we weren't given a choice," explained Harry. "It was something that was forced on us, but I think we can make it work. We were advised to become friends first and let it grow from there."

"Better you than me," shrugged Theo. "I don't even want to think about marriage this soon. It's ridiculous."

"Oh, is that the new ring you're wearing?" asked Susan Bones excitedly.

"Yes, he gave it to me two days ago, actually," Daphne smiled as she showed them her ring. "I actually thought it was pretty sweet."

"A ring, Potter?" asked Blaise Zabini, his eyebrows raised. "This soon?"

Harry shrugged. "I had no idea what that meant until my grandmother's portrait insisted that I present Daphne with a ring. I was told it was tradition, so I just went with it."

Blaise hummed in response.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Lucius Malfoy was led inside a luxury suite at the Pendragon Hotel, one of the best upscale hotels in Magical Britain. His cousin by marriage, Sirius Black, had requested a meeting with him. His ebony cane continued to make tapping noises against the marble floor as he entered the room. Sirius Black was already there.

Gone was the gaunt and pale form of the former prisoner of Azkaban. The new Lord Black was dressed in expensive silk robes and the potions regimen prescribed by the Healers seemed to have helped him because he looked moderately healthy. He wasn't back to how he was; Merlin knows those haunted grey eyes were proof enough, but it was a far cry from the mangy look from a month back in the Wizengamot. He was now clean shaven and his curly raven black hair was cut short, no longer long and unkempt. Lucius swallowed as he saw the black diamond ring gleaming in the sunlight as it reflected off the platinum band.

"Lucius," said Sirius, sounding ebullient and happy, though the other man knew very well his cheerfulness was fake. "It's been far too long since we've seen each other. Please, take a seat."

Once Lucius was comfortable, Sirius looked up and asked, "Would you like some tea?"

Lucius' lips pursed as he nodded. Sirius waved his wand as the teapot released steam, lifted off in the air and poured tea into two cups. The cups levitated themselves and carefully landed in front of the two men. Lucius discreetly scanned the drink for any poisons or potions, something the other wizard didn't miss.

"Oh, come on Lucius," Sirius frowned. "Don't insult my intelligence. I'm a free man now. Do you think I'm stupid enough to poison you?"

"You can never be too careful," said Lucius smoothly. "Especially when you have as many enemies as I do."

"Oh, I know about having enemies, alright," Sirius chuckled as he reclined in his chair and observed the blond man in front of him. "The Wizengamot was very persistent in denying me a trial even when they realised there was a possibility that I might be innocent. Why, the Director of the D.M.L.E. was even accused of consorting with Death Eaters! That is really unfortunate. What has happened to our government? The stories I've heard from different sources ..."

"And what stories would those be?" asked Lucius, his eyes narrowed.

Sirius stayed silent for a minute as he sipped his tea. "Let me come straight to the point, Lucius," he said coldly. "I don't like you. I never have. You're too slippery for your own good and I don't trust such people. At the same time, I've been briefed about the status of the Wizengamot and the Ministry of Magic. The influence of the Black family has dwindled and you capitalised on that, however, you're still no match for someone as powerful as Albus Dumbledore. I've had time to glance at some of the laws passed over the last ten years and the ones that are to be passed in the future, and I must confess that I don't like it."

His grey eyes narrowed. "You know exactly the power I have at my disposal, Lucius," he said quietly. "I'm also the regent of House Potter. Being Lord Black gives me access to information people can only dream of. Right now, I don't want you as my enemy. If you choose to work with me, it will serve you well for the moment. If you don't, I have a few dirty secrets that would bring House Malfoy to its knees. I don't even need to mention that your wife is a daughter of House Black. We both see Albus Dumbledore as a threat. I propose that we work together; at least for now. Ten years in Azkaban has made me think things through. I don't need to point out that the rest of the traditionalists will follow me no matter what you decide now. Think carefully, for your future is vested in this decision."

An hour later, Lord Sirius Black smirked as he exited the hotel. Lucius Malfoy was in the bag after a bit of struggle on the former Death Eater's part, but Sirius was able to handle it. Soon, the rest of the traditionalists will follow suit. It was time for the Houses of Potter and Black to rise again.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

It was two days before the end of the winter holidays. Harry had spent his time alternating between spending time with his godfather and the Greengrasses. The regency and guardianship were made official with the Ministry and the news of the betrothal had spread like wildfire. People were mostly shocked because none of them had known about the contract at all, especially since one of the parties to the contract was the Boy-Who-Lived. Of course, not everything was rosy. There had been an article in the _Daily Prophet_ about the betrothal, written by Rita Skeeter. The reporter had penned it in such a way that it sounded as though the Greengrass family had tricked the young hero into marrying their daughter. That certainly had brought down the mood of the holidays.

Currently, Harry was with his godfather in the Ministry of Magic building, sitting in front of Madam Griselda Marchbanks, the Head of the Department of Magical Education. Harry had no idea if Dumbledore would give his consent to the accelerated program at Hogwarts, even though he had threatened the old headmaster. Amelia had suggested that they go meet Madam Marchbanks. The wise witch would surely take a more neutral approach, not to mention was qualified to approve it.

"Your grades over the first term have been very high, Mr Potter," Madam Marchbanks observed as she looked at the file. "But I'm not sure I understand why you wish to enrol yourself in the accelerated program at all. It existed in my time, yes, but it was incredibly rare. Over the centuries, I believe less than twenty to thirty students were given the opportunity. What makes you think you are qualified?"

"I've been studying magic since I was seven years old, ma'am. I know that it is hard to believe, but I'm more than capable of going through with it. I would be severely stunting my education by being in the regular program. I don't mind taking up the end of year exams to prove to you or any professor at Hogwarts that I am indeed capable of handling this."

Madam Marchbanks looked at him speculatively. "What do you think about this, Lord Black?"

"Harry has my full support, Madam Marchbanks," answered Sirius. "I know it is difficult to believe it, but I've seen him cast advanced spells. There is no harm in letting him take the end of year exams for the first and second years. If, after that, you still believe he's not qualified for it, then I will ensure he gets his education elsewhere. I can move to Hogsmeade so that Harry can become a dayboy instead of a boarder so that I can coach him myself, or I will have him privately tutored full time and pull him out of Hogwarts. I'm willing to support him in his endeavours in any manner possible."

Harry looked at Sirius with a look of surprise on his face. He was really touched that his godfather had actually considered doing that just for him. He felt something warm in his chest but didn't know how to describe it.

"Alright, young man," said Madam Marchbanks. "But I will administer the tests to you myself, here at the Ministry. If you are willing, you can take up the end of year exams for the first and second years. When can you do so?"

"Anytime, ma'am," Harry replied confidently. "I'm ready now, you'd like."

"Now?" asked Madam Marchbanks in surprise.

Harry simply shrugged. "I'm ready, ma'am."

The old woman smiled. "Very well, then. Go sit in the examination room. We can finish the first year exams today and the second year exams tomorrow."

"Good luck," whispered Sirius as he led his godson out of the room.

Harry waited in the exam room for ten minutes when finally, an assistant came inside and handed him sheets of parchment, a quill and question papers for all his subjects. With a smile on his face, he began writing. He wanted to prove to Madam Marchbanks that he was worthy. The biggest motivating factor was that if he got through these exams, he wouldn't need to ask Dumbledore for any favours.

Several hours later, Harry was done with his written portion of the exam, feeling drained and exhausted. Sirius took him for a late lunch and they soon returned for the practical portion, which was a walk in the park. Harry took the opportunity to show off, so by the end of the practical exams of Charms, Defence and Transfiguration, Madam Marchbanks and Professor Tofty – an old friend of the former and another member of the Wizarding Examinations Authority who had wanted to see his practical work – were positively raving about his abilities.

"That was an outstanding display, Mr Potter," exclaimed Professor Tofty as he clapped enthusiastically. "That spell chain was beautifully done! I didn't think someone your age would even attempt to put together spell chains!"

"Indeed," smiled Madam Marchbanks. "You certainly were not kidding when you said you knew how to cast advanced spells. Some of those are taught in the third year and the Blasting Curse is taught in the fourth! Jolly good. I think we can consider this an exam for both your first and second years. Tomorrow, you can write the rest of the second year papers and take up the practicals for Potions and Herbology."

Harry breezed through the practical for Potions as well. The two old professors were very impressed by the way Harry used magic to stir the rods automatically the precise number of times, the spells used to control the temperature of the fire and also the timer on the potion itself. Harry's ingredients were meticulously cut so that they were perfectly equal. This was something that was ingrained in him as Alfred Potter was very thorough when it came to teaching Potions. Even the slightest of mistakes in cutting the ingredients would result in the entire potion being vanished by a house-elf even if the potion was nearly complete. It was a frustrating method to learn, but very rewarding. Once all his exams were done, he found himself once again seated in front of Madam Marchbanks with Sirius.

"I must admit that you have managed to astound me, Mr Potter," she said with a large smile. "Never in my career have I encountered an eleven-year-old boy who is so talented! I can understand your frustration in having to be a first-year student. Your practical work checks out and I have people evaluating the theory you wrote this morning. Your first-year theory papers are already graded and you scored an Outstanding on each one of them. I've gone through the second year papers too, and though they aren't graded yet, I can tell that you have performed very well in those too. Would you still like to go through with this?"

"Yes ma'am," said Harry, smiling happily. He couldn't contain his excitement. He didn't care if he was grinning like a five-year-old child with a chocolate bar in his hand. Finally! He would be able to skip those ridiculous classes he had attended in the first term.

"You do know that in the accelerated program, there will be some aspects of self-study?" asked Madam Marchbanks sharply.

"Yes, ma'am, I know, and I'm willing to work hard for it."

"Very good, because I expect nothing less," she said, looking stern for a moment. "You can begin third-year classes this term, but I don't think you'll have trouble catching up on anything other than the electives. The professors have study groups on the weekends taught by the older students which will help you catch up. That is how it's going to be for you because that's the way the accelerated program works. Self-study is an integral part of it along with classroom education. But I would advise you to use two whole years for your N.E.W.T.s. You might be very smart, Mr Potter, but the concepts taught in those two years are quite hard to grasp. I advise – no – I will _tell_ you now that I won't compromise on that. You can burn yourself out and I cannot allow that."

"I understand, ma'am," Harry nodded. He didn't have a problem with that. He could take up his N.E.W.T.s at the end of what would have been his fourth year. He could begin his higher education three years in advance! That was bloody fantastic!

Madam Marchbanks spent the next ten minutes writing on a sheet of parchment. Once done, she multiplied it with a flick of her wand. Each copy folded itself neatly and entered an envelope, with one of them floating in front of Harry.

"This is my authorization letter that enrols you as a student of the accelerated program at Hogwarts," said Madam Marchbanks. "A copy will be given to Albus Dumbledore and the other members of staff as well. Good luck, young man."

Harry swallowed as his emotions got the best of him. "Thank you very much, Madam Marchbanks," he said, trying to make his voice sound even but failing miserably. "I deeply appreciate this. I won't let you down."

"You have my gratitude as well," Sirius told her, bowing with respect. "Thank you."

Madam Marchbanks smiled fondly as the two of them left her office. Harry Potter definitely was an enigma. She would have to keep a close eye on the boy. He would surely scale new heights.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Once they were back in Potter Castle, Harry couldn't help but start jumping around with joy. He had never been this carefree before in his life and part of him was horrified at the way he was acting, but he was too ecstatic to care.

"I can't believe it actually worked!" he exclaimed. "Now I don't have to ask Dumbledore for permission!"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "I'm glad you are happy, kiddo," he said fondly, as he ruffled the boy's hair.

"I can't wait to see Dumbledore's face when he reads this," smirked Harry. "Or Snape's for that matter."

Sirius frowned. "You tell me if Dumbledore or Snape create problems for you, understood? I won't have them walking all over you. You're not alone, kiddo. I'll be with you the whole way."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that so he just nodded as he regained control of his emotions. It was certainly a new experience in having someone care about him. Sure, there was Alfred and the portraits, but Sirius was a living, breathing person.

"Thanks, Sirius," he said finally.

The older man just nodded. "Come on, off to bed. You must to exhausted. You have to leave for school tomorrow."

"Good night," muttered Harry, watching Sirius walk towards the Floo and disappear with a flash of green flames. He looked at the letter in his hand and smiled again.

"I'll make you proud, Mum and Dad. I promise."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN : __The next chapter is dedicated to Dumbledore's point of view. Sirius will see Dumbledore as his enemy because the latter did nothing to get him out of prison, but that will be shown later, along with more on the history of the Malfoy, Potter and Black families._**

 ** _As for Harry's maturity, I have shown Harry's power and maturity to what I feel Tom Riddle was at that age. If Riddle had been given prior training, wouldn't he have been like this? That's what I feel, anyway. Also, in this story, magical children mature faster than Muggles. Why should I show a whiny brat who annoys everyone?_**

 ** _Thank you all for your reviews!_**


	6. For the Greater Good

**_Chapter 6_**

 ** _For the Greater Good_**

Albus Dumbledore sighed in frustration and exasperation. He read the letter again, but it did nothing but increase his already present headache. He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts! He should have been consulted before Griselda Marchbanks administered the exams to Harry. Now, it was too late. The seal of the Head of the Department of Magical Education was present on the authorization letter. Other than Harry's disappearance four years ago, these past few months seemed like the first time in a decade that he felt helpless to stop something. The last time such a feeling had gripped him, countless lived had been destroyed due to a war started by a madman.

Dumbledore had developed a plan more than ten years ago which he thought would finally end Lord Voldemort for good. When Sybill Trelawney foretold the birth of a boy who would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, he had been intrigued and frightened. Curious because he wondered how the said child would defeat the Dark Lord, and frightened because the prophecy claimed that the boy would be more powerful – in a sense – as compared to Lord Voldemort.

And if there was anything that scared Albus, it was power in the hands of dangerous individuals. Merlin knows _his_ life had been destroyed due to his lust for power. His love for Gellert and the plans they had concocted for world domination had backfired spectacularly. The three-way duel had resulted in the love of his life fleeing England, and culminated with him burying his sister's dead body. Even now, more than a century later, Albus did not know whose Killing Curse had snuffled out Ariana's life. He had a strong suspicion but was too scared to even acknowledge it to himself. After that incident, he had decided to quit his dreams of being a world leader.

It was ironic that he was now the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the chosen leader of hundreds of millions of witches and wizards around the world.

Nursing his broken heart, he had travelled all over the world for many years, seeking knowledge about different kinds of magic. He was especially talented in Transfiguration, and once his grand tour was complete, he had applied for a teaching post at Hogwarts.

For a few decades, things were quite calm. Albus had realised he had a real passion for teaching. He saw many young witches and wizards come and go, but outside the walls of the school, things began heating up. Gellert had started seizing power and by the early 1930s, there was an all-out international hunt for him ordered by the I.C.W. Europe and America were burning due to his methods of seeking power. Albus had never condoned violence of any kind. It was one of the things he and Gellert had often fought about back then. He preferred to manipulate in the background and seize power through charisma and leadership. Of course, his current status as the leader of the I.C.W. was proof to decide which theory was right.

While the great magical war was raging on in the western part of the planet, a new threat emerged in the form of an eleven-year-old wizard named Tom Riddle. Albus had been quite worried about the boy's behaviour. He seemed unusually powerful for his age and seemed to have a strong grasp on magic even before he was informed about being a wizard. Not only that, he seemed to be using his powers to harm his enemies. The fact that he was a Parselmouth only made Albus not trust him more, though he did try to give the boy a chance. For the next several years at Hogwarts, Albus had treated Tom Riddle with indifference, and in some cases, intense suspicion. Unfortunately, this backfired on him again, with the bright, intelligent boy resorting to the blackest of the black arts, and also opening the dreaded Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in several attacks and the death of a student.

Albus remembered the boy pleading with him to let him stay at Hogwarts during the summer (as much pleading as a Slytherin would do), but he had refused, wanting Tom to get along with Muggles better. The other reason was that he did not want Tom to spend more time at Hogwarts than necessary (especially without supervision during the holidays) and he thought his decision was sound after the opening of the Chamber of Secrets a few years later.

Unknown to Albus Dumbledore, that choice of his had been one of the main reasons why Tom Riddle resorted to Horcruxes to prevent his death. The young Slytherin had grown up in the Muggle city during the London Blitz, and even though at the time, the Second World War had ended, Tom Riddle was still too frightened to stay in London where a bomb could be dropped on the orphanage anytime by enemy powers. He had at least wanted to stay at the Leakey Cauldron, where the wards around Diagon Alley protected them from the bombs, but without money and adult consent, he couldn't do so. He was forced to stay in the Muggle world and survive during the immediate aftermath of a brutal war, with little to no food, and face the danger of being killed every day.

That experience was what had made Tom Riddle create a Horcrux when he was just a sixteen-year-old boy, despite warnings in the book to not attempt it before magical maturity. The more he split his soul, the more twisted and evil he became. Soon, Voldemort was but a shadow of his former self. In his quest for immortality, he had traded his sanity and humanity. Tom Riddle had always been dark, but he would not have become as twisted and insane if not for the Horcruxes he created.

Albus Dumbledore, however, didn't know this. When Voldemort started his surgical strikes against the British magical society, the aged headmaster was consumed with guilt. He had allowed yet another very powerful wizard to destroy the world – and it was all his fault. He had allowed Gellert to seize power by supplying him with various plans for world domination; tens of thousands of witches and wizards abroad had died as a result and he didn't even want to count the number of Muggle deaths. He had failed in stopping Voldemort's rise to power; dozens, hundreds and within twenty years, thousands of witches and wizards in Britain had perished. So when he heard the prophecy in his office when the Seer had recited it to him during a job interview, he acted.

He quickly put Trelawney under a complex Confundus Charm and restaged the interview in the Hog's Head. He had ensured that a Death Eater was present so that he could give the information to Voldemort. It had worked exactly as he had planned. Severus Snape had delivered the first half of the prophecy and now, Voldemort was distracted. He was searching for this boy who had the power to defeat him. The general population and the Ministry of Magic were now given little importance as he upped his attacks on two mothers who were expecting to deliver at the end of July and fit the terms of the prophecy – Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom.

There had been repeated attacks on the two families. Charlus and Dorea had been killed in an attack on their manor. Augusta Longbottom's husband had been murdered in broad daylight. There was another attack where James and Lily had escaped moments before Voldemort's arrival. Albus had also suspected that there was a spy in the Order of the Phoenix who was leaking information to Voldemort, but he didn't stop it, for the tactic was proving to be effective. The Dark Lord had diverted all his attention to the Order and was not focussed on the general population, so Albus went along with it. It wasn't too difficult for him to realise who the spy was, of course. He wasn't a natural at Legilimency for nothing. He convinced himself that the Order members were all well-trained people, so it was worth the risk. But they were slowly falling one by one.

Finally, he had decided that he couldn't wait anymore, nor risk the lives of the Order members who were being killed individually.

Voldemort had to be stopped by any means necessary before he caused more deaths. The problem was the ethics of it, but Albus had realised something.

The needs of many outweigh the needs of the few. He was the Supreme Mugwump. It was his duty to protect the magical world and keep the Statute of Secrecy intact. For the greater good of all, he had made that horrible decision.

After another attack on Potter Manor, he had convinced James and Lily to go under the Fidelius Charm. The second assault on their ancestral mansion had shaken the couple, especially after what had happened the last time, resulting in the deaths of Charlus and Dorea. James and Lily were a formidable and deadly team, no doubt, but it was difficult to fight when they had a one-year-old baby with them. The very subtle suggestion to use Peter Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper worked out perfectly.

Only he wasn't expecting the child to survive, but thankfully, Voldemort had been defeated as well, just as Trewalney had predicted.

But Albus had been bewildered.

Who on earth could survive being hit by the Killing Curse, much less reflect it back at the caster? But somehow, it had happened. The enchantments he had placed on the cottage showed him that Harry was alive. He had sent Hagrid to collect the child and bring him to Hogwarts while he informed Barty Crouch to apprehend Sirius Black. That decision was sad and it still made Albus cringe in guilt, but it was necessary. As the oath-sworn godfather, not to mention closest blood relative through James Potter, Sirius could not be denied guardianship of the child of the prophecy. Sirius was too unpredictable, so Albus had sent him to Azkaban without a trial. The deaths of all those Muggles only made it easier.

He had honestly thought Pettigrew was dead.

Albus knew exactly what he was condemning young Harry to when he placed the baby on that doorstep, but he knew that the sacrifice was necessary. The child's happiness was irrelevant at the moment. Voldemort may have been vanquished, but there were still many Death Eaters out there – some identified, others unknown – who were willing to do absolutely anything to get their revenge on the boy who had vanquished their master. He had to take a decision quickly so as to protect Harry Potter.

He had stumbled upon a very ancient form of blood-magic that linked family members together; old magic that was tied to intentions of those under its protection. Using the intent of Lily's sacrifice, Albus had collected Lily and Harry's blood, allowing it to power the charms around Number Four, Privet Drive. Petunia's blood connection to Harry would offer the best protection possible.

But there was still the mystery of the boy's scar, and how he had survived the Killing Curse.

Before dropping him off at the Dursleys, Dumbledore had spent every waking minute of an entire day, scanning the child using various obscure spells until he discovered the soul piece lodged in Harry's scar. That was when he realised with a jolt that Voldemort had not been killed like he had assumed, but only temporarily defeated. The twisted man had ignored the sacred laws of Magic and had actually severed his soul and created a Horcrux.

That begged the question – how? How could a piece of Voldemort's soul – because it could hardly be anybody else's, not to mention he could detect Tom's magical signature – be attached to the boy? He spent years finding out everything he could about Horcruxes, consulting various experts on dark magic until he finally arrived at the solution.

Voldemort must have made multiple Horcruxes, and that had resulted in his soul accidentally tearing itself apart when the Killing Curse rebounded, with the severed soul-piece latching onto the only living thing in the room – Harry.

Albus had then started searching for any information on Voldemort that would lead him to other Horcruxes, after persuading Horace Slughorn to give him a memory where Tom Riddle had broached the subject with his teacher. The potions master had constantly evaded Albus, going so far as to resign his position, but eventually, after a lot of effort, the headmaster managed to acquire the extremely valuable memory by using Slughorn's own guilt against him. However, even after knowing that there were potentially six Horcruxes of a seven-part soul, Albus had been unable to track them down. Between his headmaster duties, his position as Chief Warlock of a country that was torn by war, and being Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W, he had his hands full, and there wasn't enough time to search for clues that led to a trail that had long gone cold.

Albus had also been guilt-ridden for months after the attack on the Potters, blaming himself for what had happened to James, Lily and Sirius. The three Gryffindors had been some of his absolute favourites, with their loyalty in him unshakable, but what had he done? He had betrayed them in the worst possible manner.

But that guilt had reduced considerably after he had seen what happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom – yet another example as to what he had stopped by activating the prophecy. The country also began to prosper again, without Voldemort to cause fear and panic. Albus had also tried his level best to get the Death Eaters locked up, but alas! There were some things he just could not do. With how busy he had been, the corruption at the Ministry of Magic had been undetected and several Wizengamot members and members of the Council of Magical Law had been bribed and threatened to let the accused go scot-free, even with him and Barty Crouch Senior doing their best to lock them up.

However, not all his plans worked out the way he had intended. Harry Potter had disappeared from the Dursleys when he was seven. When he returned to Hogwarts, he was everything Dumbledore didn't want.

He was intelligent; dangerously so. He also knew about his family heritage, embraced it, and didn't have a problem with showing how exceptional he truly was when it came to magic. The boy was also cold and reclusive. While it was true that magical children developed faster mentally and physically as compared to Muggles, it was frightening how similar Harry Potter was as compared to Tom Riddle. The same charisma, the same elegance and grace, the same devilishly good looks for one so young, the same sharp mind; they were all dangerous combinations and Albus couldn't help but remember Harry's apparent hatred of Muggles. He was already nervous about it which was why he had hoped to gain the boy's loyalty by accepting young Harry into the accelerated program, but that opportunity was now out of his grasp.

Harry had also refused to go back to Petunia. Logically, he understood that Harry was safer behind the extensive wards of Potter Castle, but the problem was that Albus didn't know _what_ enchantments powered the castle in the first place, and if they were good enough. Just because they were powerful once did not mean they were powerful now! Harry was just a child and without an adult to guide him, who would have taught him to access the wards? That was not the only reason – there were books in the Potter library which Albus did not want the boy to read. Harry gaining more power sent shivers down his spine as he remembered another black haired boy fifty years ago. There were many differences between Harry and Tom, oh yes, but there were also dangerous similarities, which was why he had set up the test for him with the fake philosopher's stone.

The boy had actually tried to blackmail him! HIM! He was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, magically and politically, and Harry actually had the gall to blackmail him! Not even Voldemort had dared to do that at the height of his powers, but deep in his heart, Albus was actually amused that Harry had attempted it.

 _Ah, the mind of a child!_

But it looked like it was unwarranted. The young Ravenclaw had been accepted into the accelerated program through the Ministry of Magic with the help of his new guardian, Lord Sirius Black.

Albus rubbed his temples. He would have to keep a very close eye on Harry, closer than he previously intended. The boy had completely ignored the test he had set for him. Harry had not ventured to the third-floor corridor like the rest of the more curious students in the school. He suspected that Quirrell wanted to steal the stone, thinking it was real, and had a feeling that the Defence teacher somehow worked for Voldemort, though how, Albus did not know. He had an inkling about what was going on, though. He had initially thought Quirrell would be enough to test Harry, but now ... maybe it would be better if the boy confronted Voldemort himself? It would prove to be effective as Harry would see how dangerous his parents' murderer is. That would surely make the boy trust the wise old Headmaster, would it not?

At this point, Albus was even willing to teach Alchemy if it meant getting Harry to trust him.

He snapped out his musings when the door to his office banged open and Severus Snape entered with a snarl on his face. He threw a very familiar looking letter on the desk and bellowed, "I will not accept this, Albus! That Potter brat is being given too much leeway. I will not let him inside any other class other than the one he is supposed to be in, and that is the class for the first years. What nonsense is this?"

Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Babbling, and Vector entered the office too. Albus sighed as he drowned a Calming Draught. This was going to be a long meeting indeed.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The second term at Hogwarts began with loud whispers and gossip about one Harry Potter. He seemed to have been accepted into the famed accelerated program which had not been seen at the school for a century. People wondered how talented he must be for him to be selected, but others were positive that he was awarded the opportunity only because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. The newspaper article about him seeking attention by enrolling himself in the program written by Rita Skeeter didn't help matters either. Of course, Sirius had gone and let the editor of the _Daily Prophet_ know exactly why people trembled in fear when they heard the name 'Black'. It was a synonym for blackmail and the editor had hastily printed an apology the next day.

Naturally, it was ignored by the rest of the population. No one read something as boring as a retraction in the newspaper.

Much to Sirius' delight, Harry didn't seem to care about the negative press. Many of the older years in Ravenclaw were openly sneering at him, not to mention Hermione Granger had thrown a major temper tantrum, but he didn't care. Harry was thriving in his third-year classes. He had quickly risen to the top of the class again, much to the joy of his teachers. Professor Babbling especially was thrilled when she realised Harry considered Runes to be one of his most favourite subjects. The third-year students began to realise why he was in the accelerated program. He was a prodigy.

Snape was, naturally, nastier than ever. Harry was seriously considering murdering the bastard, but he didn't know how to do it without raising suspicion. Then there was Quirrell. Harry had caught sight of the man openly staring at Harry with a hungry gleam in his eye and it was making Harry very uncomfortable. He had not shared this with Sirius. Merlin knows he would march to the castle to 'take care of it' if Harry ever mentioned it to his godfather.

Harry still didn't know what he was feeling when it came to Sirius, and now that he realised it, Daphne as well. His relationship with each of them had deepened over time. His godfather had given him a communication mirror so that they could talk to each other all the time. Harry had been very impressed with the mirror and had sent a letter to his account manager at Gringotts to find out everything about the company. At the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that despite knowing Sirius for a very short time, he could picture a good – dare he say it – father-son relationship with the older wizard in the future. His chest always tightened when he thought about it, but Harry didn't know what it meant.

Then, of course, was Daphne. He had taken to spending increasingly more time with her in the Room of Requirement. Doing so made them start talking to each other more as he tutored her in her studies. It was now at such a level that Harry genuinely felt protective of her and he would go so far as to call her his best friend, even though she was his _only_ friend. The Room of Requirement itself was a big mystery to him and the way he found it, even more so. He let his mind wander, thinking back to that day.

 _It was the first week back at school. Harry was walking along a corridor on the seventh floor after meeting the Headmaster. Dumbledore had wanted to speak to him about the exams he had taken at the Ministry. He had also given Harry one of his patented 'I'm disappointed in you' looks. Apparently, he was about to let Harry know that he had approved of the accelerated program and was waiting for him to come back to school, but Harry honestly doubted the veracity of the headmaster's statement._

 _Just as he turned a corner, he saw the tapestry of a man teaching a group of trolls how to dance. Suddenly, he was assaulted by a memory again._

He had found the legendary Room of Requirement. It had been a perfect coincidence that he had seen one of those house-elves using the room. Excitement churned in his stomach as he paced three times in front of the blank wall. From what he gathered after interrogating the elf, he could imagine the room to resemble anything he wanted! He opened his eyes and stopped pacing.

A large iron door appeared.

 _Harry gasped as he missed a step, nearly tripping on his shoes, wincing in pain as his head throbbed horribly. That had been another memory; a memory that belonged to Voldemort. What_ _the_ _hell_ _was _happening?__

 _He curiously looked at the blank stretch of wall. Could it really resemble anything he wanted? Harry slowly moved closer and paced three times in front of it. On the third try, a large metal door appeared. When he opened it and stepped inside, Harry's eyes widened in shock. The room was exactly as he wanted it to be. Several practice dummies were present, with wands in hand._

 _Ten minutes later, Harry realised that these dummies were nothing like those he had back home at Potter Castle. These felt real, like he was actually duelling a grown wizard. A slow grin formed on his face He couldn't even describe the advantages this room could offer. He would use it to his advantage. After all, he had a duelling championship to prepare for._

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry activated the Marauder's Map again, his eyes slowly scanning it. It was a goldmine of information, giving details about what people were up to by simply observing their movements, which he would pass on to Daphne. She was overjoyed when she realised the amount of blackmail material it offered. Such things were extremely useful if one had to survive in Slytherin, which her parents had repeatedly told her and Astoria growing up. A couple of minutes later, his eyes narrowed. This was something he hadn't seen the last time.

Professor Quirrell's name seemed to overlap with another name, but he couldn't read it clearly. Harry tapped his wand on the map, ordering it to magnify, showing the name which was overlapping with Quirrell's.

Tom Riddle.

"Tom Riddle?" Harry whispered to himself in confusion. He winced in pain as another memory assaulted his mind.

 _He was in his bed in the Slytherin dormitories. He kept tapping his wand on the sheet of parchment and wondered if he was ever going to succeed. The letters kept interchanging over and over again, but none of them made any sense. His original name returned._

 _TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

 _Anger bubbled in his gut as he angrily tapped his wand on the sheet once more. Letters changed again, but this time, it formed something different. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the words written on the parchment. It was a perfect anagram of his name, which was what he originally intended. It also made sense because his goal was to conquer death. What a perfect word! It meant 'Flight from Death'. He smirked at the words he could see which were shimmering under the light from his wand –_

 _I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

Harry gasped as he picked himself from the floor, his body still trembling slightly, having collapsed due to the pain of the memory slamming into his conscious mind. He had to control himself when those memories assaulted him. It would be monumentally disastrous if Dumbledore or the Ministry found out that he somehow had Voldemort's memories in his head. He swallowed heavily when his gaze returned to the map.

He couldn't believe it. Voldemort was still alive? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? The Killing Curse was said to have impacted him, right? If that were true, then how could Voldemort be inside the castle? Harry knew it was the truth – the map never lies, after all. It had Gryffindor blood powering it, so it was linked to the wards themselves. A shiver of fear ran down the length of Harry's spine as he looked at the name with wide eyes.

 _Tom Riddle_

If Voldemort was inside the castle, then why was his name nearly combined with that of Quirrell? Was he disguised as Quirrell, using the form as an alias? In that case, Harry was in grave danger.

What to do?

Harry already knew that Dumbledore had kept a fake Philosopher's stone in the school. He did not believe even for a second that it could be the real one. There was no way Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel would give away their prized alchemical discovery. The stone was the only thing keeping them alive, after all. They might be very old, but he doubted they were that stupid.

But apparently, Voldemort had taken the bait. Harry had heard Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger discussing the stone many times since the second term began. Curiously enough, each time, Harry would be in the vicinity, though he didn't understand the reasoning behind it. He had simply shrugged it off after researching about the stone.

He also knew that there was a Cerberus behind that door in the third-floor corridor from speaking to the Weasley twins who had investigated it. He had read about them from a book he had taken from the Potter family library. Very little was known about those monster dogs, but apparently, music can make it go to sleep.

Harry absentmindedly gripped the locked hanging from around his neck. Opening it, he saw a picture of his parents smiling back at him, waving as though they could actually see him. His face remained stony as he looked back. He didn't remember them, but reading their journals, and the way both of them described him, their son, had touched Harry's wounded heart just after he had escaped the Dursleys. Harry may not even remember their voices, but they were his parents and the strange feeling in his chest returned again. If not for Voldemort, he would have had parents. If not for Voldemort, he would not have been abandoned at the Dursleys. If not for Voldemort, he would have lived a carefree life as any eleven-year-old should.

He needed to get rid of Voldemort. He was probably the one who let the troll inside the castle on Samhain, so there was no telling what lengths the Dark Lord would go to get the stone and maybe kill Harry himself in the process. Harry had also noted Quirrell eyeing him recently. Ergo, he had to go. But how?

A week later, Harry finally had enough courage to put his plan in motion. He had been tempted to contact his godfather but had restrained himself. Sirius would not approve of Harry's decision. He didn't like it much either, but he wasn't going to let Voldemort kill him now; not when his future was finally looking bright. Swallowing his nervousness and trying to control his slightly shaking limbs, he donned the Invisibility Cloak and sneaked out of Ravenclaw Tower.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Professor Quirrell was walking towards his office, stuttering as usual when he greeted a couple of the prefects who were patrolling the corridors after curfew. When he entered, he noticed a slip of parchment waiting on his desk with an alert charm on it. His master ordered him to investigate immediately, so Quirrell scanned and dispelled the charm. It was a simple message written in indistinguishable capital letters.

 _LV –_

 _MUSIC SOOTHES THE SAVAGE BEAST. I HOPE YOU COME BACK TO US SOON._

 _– A FRIEND_

Just as he finished reading it, the parchment burst into flames, startling the man. His master ordered him to head to the third floor at once so that they could test the theory and verify if it was a trap or not. No one else was supposed to know of Voldemort's involvement and the Dark Lord was curious as to who could have sent that message. He knew that it wasn't Dumbledore because it wasn't his style, so he decided to investigate who was behind this; after, of course, confirming the theory behind the Cerberus' reaction to music. As it was quite late, no one was around when Quirrell made his way to the third-floor corridor.

Dispelling the alert charms cast by Dumbledore, Quirrell opened the door and entered. At once, the Cerberus started growling, but he conjured a harp which began playing soft music. The large dog's eyelids started drooping. Once it was asleep, Quirrell carefully moved one of the massive paws away from the trap door.

The Defence professor never saw that silent stunner coming from behind him.

As he crumpled to the floor, Harry silenced the harp with a flick of his wand and sent an overpowered stinging hex at the sleeping Cerberus. The massive dog growled angrily and pounced on the only target it could see – the unconscious form of Professor Quirrell.

Harry swallowed as he turned away from the sight of the mangled body of the Defence professor, putting the hood of the invisibility cloak back over his head. He couldn't believe he had actually done it. Reinforcing his mental shields, he tried to push the memory as far into his mind palace as possible. He opened the door and walked out, trying to get to Ravenclaw Tower as soon as possible, doing his best to think about anything other than the murder he had just committed. He would probably have to take a Calming Draught for the night; maybe a few other nights too.

He never saw the shade rise from Quirrell's dead body, the red eyes staring the place Harry's head occupied before he had left the room. With an angry snarl, Lord Voldemort flew away from Hogwarts and back towards Albania.

He had been thwarted again by Harry Potter, but it would be the last time. He, Lord Voldemort would make sure of it!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _April 2002_**

"Harry, what are we doing here? It's nearly midnight!" Daphne whispered in his ear.

The two of them were under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, prowling the castle after curfew. It was early April now, and Daphne couldn't figure out what her fiancé was up to.

"Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous," Harry smirked at her. "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?!"

"Yes, now hush. We're almost there."

Harry led her to the seventh-floor corridor and they stopped in front of a very familiar tapestry. After he checked the map to ensure no one was nearby, he removed the cloak and paced three times until the iron door appeared.

He then looked at Daphne and whispered, "Close your eyes."

When Daphne reluctantly complied, she felt Harry gently take her hand and lead her inside. She could feel a light, cool breeze but knew that it was the magic of the room that created it. Harry carefully guided her down several steps and she was made to sit on something. She was getting restless, so before she could open her eyes, Harry conjured a blindfold and slid it over her eyes.

"Harry!" whined Daphne. "Come on! What's this about?"

"You'll see," he said, sounding amused.

Daphne couldn't hear anything either but knew there were probably silencing charms in place. Finally, Harry removed the blindfold with a wave of his hand. Her eyes took time to adjust to the dim lighting. They seemed to be on a small boat, but it was closed on all sides, so she couldn't see what was going on outside.

"Where are we?" she asked, confused.

Harry simply smiled and flicked his wand, making the roof of the boat disappear. Daphne gasped.

They were in the middle of a calm lake at night. There was a full moon with stars and constellations seen in the clear night sky above. Mountain peaks could be seen in the distance and she could see forest cover on the distant banks of the lake too. The boat swayed slightly in the water. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"How did you know?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"You told me," said Harry, smiling slightly. "You told me that you had dreamt about such a place once and that you always remembered it. I saw flashes of it when I was teaching you Occlumency about two months ago. You said that if you ever were to come across a place like this, you would wish to spend your birthday there."

"You remembered?" she asked, not taking her glistening eyes off Harry's face.

He simply smiled as he reached for a bag. She watched him assemble everything needed. A small vanilla cake, her favourite, was being held in his hands, with one of those fancy flower candles on it.

"Happy birthday, Daphne," he whispered, just as it turned midnight.

Tears flowed down Daphne's cheeks as she croaked out a thank you. Harry smiled as he took a small piece of cake and fed it to her, just as his godfather had instructed him to do. Daphne, in turn, took a piece of cake and fed it to him as well.

"Look up," he muttered, pointing to the sky. When she looked at the night sky, she gasped as several fancy fireworks exploded in the air, bathing the sky in beautiful colours. One of the fireworks exploded, forming the words, ' _Happy Birthday Daphne_ ' in the sky.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered, wiping her tears away. "Thank you so much. You didn't have to go to such lengths to impress me, you know."

"You may be my fiancée, Daphne, but you're also my first and only friend," he shrugged. "I just wanted to thank you for that and, well, apologise for you being trapped with me because of the betrothal contract. It wasn't your fault that I'm the last Potter."

"I don't mind being engaged to you," smiled Daphne, her cheeks colouring, a hint of awkwardness creeping through. "In fact, I think it's the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Really? You're not mad that you will be forced to marry me?"

"I was angry, yes, but so were you. But I'm not anymore. Over the past several months, you've become my best friend, Harry. Sure, I've known Tracy for a couple of years, but she's very social while I'm not; at least not outside the family, but I don't mind having you as my best friend. Forced into it or not, I'm _happy_."

"Me too," said Harry quietly. There was tense silence for a minute, the air filled with uncertainty, which he broke by saying, "I – _ahem_ – I have a present for you. I hope you like it."

He took out a long, slender velvet box and gave it to Daphne. She accepted it and opened it carefully and gasped when she saw what was inside.

"It's a locket similar to mine," said Harry, pointing to the one hanging from around his neck outside his shirt, "with a bevvy of protective charms on it, some of which are not exactly legal. Open it."

Daphne opened the locket and saw that on one side was a picture of her with her parents and Astoria, while on the other was a picture of her and Harry taken during the Yule Ball at Greengrass Manor. She moved closer and hugged him tightly, not being able to convey her thanks with mere words. Harry stiffened in panic and realising this, Daphne pulled away, giving him his space.

"So, whose idea was this?" she asked teasingly.

Harry's green eyes sparkled with amusement, but he didn't see the point in lying to her. "My godfather suggested I do this," he acknowledged. "I'd simply wanted to give you a present and leave it at that, but he insisted that I make it special, and since I had no idea how to proceed, he helped me with it. The gift was completely my idea, though."

"Well, I appreciate it," said Daphne, smiling brightly at him. "Thanks, Harry. You're a true friend."

A hint of a shy, pleased smile formed on Harry's lips, forcing him to look away, his face flushed with happiness. He couldn't fully understand the strange emotions that he was experiencing, but whatever it was, it felt good.

They stayed there for an hour, enjoying the beautiful scenery, each secretly glancing at the other when the other wasn't looking. Neither was willing to admit it, but Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass were slowly beginning to develop feelings for each other.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: To those who don't agree with Harry's decision of killing Quirrell and say that he doesn't act his age, again, I'm using the young Tom Riddle as a template. If Tom could torture his enemies using a wandless, weaker version of the Cruciatus Curse even before he was ten years old, I think this is not that far off. Also, as you can see, Dumbledore is still manipulative, but he doesn't have some selfish agenda. What do you think? Is Dumbledore still good, relatively speaking? Do let me know. Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	7. The Duelling Champion

**_Chapter 7_**

 ** _The Duelling Champion_**

The end of the academic year was finally here. After Professor Quirrell had died in an unfortunate accident (according to Dumbledore), the headmaster had decided to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts himself. During the end of year exams, Harry impressed all his teachers with his astounding practical application of magic. Professors Babbling and Vector were overjoyed with his grasp of the subjects of Runes and Arithmancy since he had joined in the middle of the third year classes. He had needed help with the latter but was able to catch up after private lessons with Professor Vector. He had worked very hard, so it was no surprise (at least to him) when the results stated that he was the top student amongst the third years.

Thanks to Harry tutoring her, Daphne too sailed through her first-year exams and stood first in her year. Padma Patil stood second and Hermione Granger third, followed by Draco Malfoy and Ernie Macmillan. While Daphne was ecstatic, a few others were not. Hermione Granger had ranted about how there was no possible way she could not have come first.

Throughout the year, she had been under the impression that _she_ was the top student until Professor McGonagall clarified that the rankings displayed on the notice board in Gryffindor Tower only gave information about Gryffindor students. Ergo, she was the top student amongst the first years in Gryffindor. But Hermione didn't like it. In her Muggle primary school, she had always stood first in class, and that position had been snatched away from her here at Hogwarts. She decided to study harder next year, and maybe even get into the accelerated program like Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy was unhappy because he had been beaten in the exams by a Muggle-born.

Due to their performances in the matches, Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup, but thanks to the two hundred points the four Prefects had gained in saving Hermione Granger, they were able to snag a victory for Ravenclaw for the House Cup. All four students had also been rewarded for their bravery as they had risked their lives to save a fellow student. The Ravenclaws were especially happy as they hadn't won the House Cup in several years, thanks in part to Snape and his less-than-cheery attitude towards anyone other than a Slytherin. The older year students in all four Houses had finally calmed down after they had to grudgingly admit that Harry Potter really did qualify to be in the accelerated program because of his intelligence and talent and not because of his fame.

Once the end of year feast was done and the golden plates and cutlery cleaned, Harry let Hedwig fly back to Potter Castle while he shrunk his trunk which was already packed by one of his house-elves. Just as he walked down to the common room, Professor Flitwick informed him that Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak to him. Harry immediately excused himself and withdrew his communication mirror.

"Sirius Black," he whispered.

The mirror heated up and his godfather's face appeared. The man's eyes narrowed dangerously. "He's calling you to his office, isn't he?" he asked without preamble.

"Yes," Harry answered stiffly.

"I'll take care of it, Harry," said Sirius calmly. "Don't worry."

"Thanks, Sirius," said Harry with a small smile as he put the mirror back in his pocket. About fifteen minutes later, when he and Daphne were walking out of the castle, they saw Sirius Black walk in and head directly towards the marble staircase.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Lord Sirius Black walked towards Dumbledore's office after getting the password from a surprised Professor Flitwick. He saw the gargoyle jump to the side, so he stepped onto the moving staircase and knocked on the door. When he heard the old man invite him in, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was exactly as Sirius remembered it, with Dumbledore sitting behind the ornate desk, on a throne-like chair. He seemed surprised to see Sirius there.

"Sirius?" asked Dumbledore, confused. "I believe I asked Harry to meet me before he leaves. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here because I am his guardian and this does not concern his schooling," said Sirius curtly as he took a seat uninvited. "What is this about? Wait, let me guess … Is this about making Harry go back to Petunia?" he sneered.

Dumbledore mentally sighed. He did not expect Sirius to come here himself. He thought he might be able to persuade Harry by bribing the boy with books from his personal library, but he didn't think it would work with the Lord of House Black sitting in front of him.

"Sirius, you have to see reason. The protection I had created around the Dursley residence was based on Lily's sacrifice. As long as Harry calls the place home, and where Lily's blood lives through Harry and her sister, Voldemort cannot touch him. It is imperative that he goes back there for his own protection."

"I will never allow that, Dumbledore," said Sirius coldly. "You're delusional if you think I would condemn Harry to such suffering again. You _knew_ Petunia was a bitch. Lily told you so, didn't she? And yet you placed Harry with that woman and her husband, making my godson grow up in a magic-hating, abusive household. I can't believe you would sink so low as to condone child abuse!"

"Sirius, I had no idea –"

"Save it!" spat Sirius angrily. "You _should_ have known about it since it was _you_ who left him there in the first place. You were the boy's magical guardian. It was your duty to protect him! I don't even want to know what state my godson would have been in if he hadn't escaped when he had. There are a lot of mysteries surrounding you, Dumbledore and I don't like it. You're playing a very dangerous game. It's rather convenient that it was you who sealed James' will which stated that I was innocent. It was convenient that I didn't know _who_ actually cast the Fidelius Charm. All this time, I was under the impression that it was Lily until Harry proved otherwise. You're very lucky that James and Lily's journals are not admissible in court as evidence because if I had solid proof of your involvement, I would have ensured that something was done about it. You sent me to Azkaban on purpose. You put Harry with Petunia for a reason. I'm warning you now, Dumbledore. Stay out of my way and out of my son's life."

" _Your_ son, Sirius?"

Sirius fixed Dumbledore with a haughty look. "He's as good as my own. I couldn't love him more if he actually were my son. I repeat; leave Harry alone or you will face my wrath!"

With that, Sirius Black got to his feet and walked out of the office, slamming the door in the process, leaving Dumbledore to ponder the situation. The headmaster's eyes grew hard and a frown formed on his face. He seemed to be the recipient of many threats lately. He had to get things back under control; get _Harry_ under control. Sirius was, unfortunately, protected. The Chief Warlock could wage political battles, but that was it. He needed the young Lord Black for the fight with Voldemort when the Dark Lord eventually returned, and hence, didn't want to consider any route that could sour their relationship further.

Dumbledore turned to his trusted phoenix. "We need to find him, Fawkes," he said softly. "I think it is time we brought him back."

The phoenix trilled and soon, both the old headmaster and the phoenix disappeared in a flash of flame.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The train reached Platform Nine and Three-Quarters several hours later, and Harry smiled when saw Sirius waiting for him. The moment his godfather spotted him, Sirius lightly ruffled Harry's hair and said, "Everything's ready, kiddo. Come on."

Harry bid everyone goodbye and after returning Daphne's hug (much to the surprise of Daphne, her parents, and Sirius), he took Sirius' hand and Disapparated. When Harry opened his eyes, he could smell the salt water. They were standing on a beach, with the waves crashing on the white sand.

"A beach?" he asked incredulously. "I thought you were bringing me to your home!"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "I did bring us home. This island, owned by the Blacks, is off the coast of Cornwall. You can have all the privacy you need here. Come on, let's head inside."

The older man led Harry towards a path which was off the beach. They walked in comfortable silence and after a few minutes, Harry's eyes widened when he saw an elegant castle made of black stone. It was much smaller than Potter Castle, but still impressive in its own right.

"Welcome to Black Castle," said Sirius as he led Harry inside. "The other homes of the Blacks are in a state of disrepair. The house-elves are fixing them, but it'll take time. The ancestral manor in Scotland is where I'll be moving in once repairs are complete, but for the summer, it's more than enough. Besides, I like the seaside view."

"I've never seen a beach before! The Dursleys went to Nice once when I was six. I saw the pictures and since then, I've wanted to go there too."

"We'll go on a vacation to France later this summer, then," said Sirius as he led Harry to one of the bedrooms.

"Really?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Of course, Harry," said Sirius, fondly ruffling his hair. "We can go to different places every summer for a holiday. That's what families do."

The young boy was momentarily stunned and stopped walking. Sirius frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"You consider _me_ family?"

"I have _always_ considered you family, Harry," he replied patiently. "You're as good as my own son. I know that I made a mistake by giving you up all those years ago, but this time, I'm here to stay. I'll be with you all the way. I promised your parents that I'd take care of you, and I intend to honour that promise. You're not alone, Harry."

Harry's face was blank as always, but his lower lip trembled as he swallowed thickly. "Thank you," he said quietly before entering the room. He was quite touched by his godfather's words. He was feeling emotions he couldn't identify and that confused him more than anything.

Sirius just smiled slightly as he walked out of the room. _Baby steps_ , he reminded himself.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Sirius had kept his promise.

On the twentieth of July, Sirius Black, Amelia Bones, and Harry Potter were at the International Floo Terminal in London. When it was their turn, they stepped into the massive Floo and were swallowed up by the green flames. When they emerged, they were greeted by the officials of the French Ministry of Magic in Paris. After their wands were registered, with Amelia flashing her credentials that showed that she was the Director of the British D.M.L.E, they Portkeyed to the villa in southern France that was owned by the Black family.

"So, what do you want to do first?" asked Amelia.

The relationship between her and Sirius had improved over the past year. He had still been frosty in the beginning, but after spending several months talking to each other, with Amelia convincing him that she had never forgotten him, things had slowly improved. They weren't back to how it was before he was chucked into prison, but their relationship was slowly mending itself. Apart from her fiancé, Amelia had also taken up the responsibility of being there for Harry too, and over the course of three weeks, they had become comfortable in each other's presence. The fact that Amelia had already gained Harry's respect and trust thanks to her involvement in his godfather's trial helped immensely, and hence, the latter wasn't as hesitant to open up to her.

"I want to learn and explore some of the magical culture here in France," replied Harry as he enlarged his bags with a wave of his hand. His wandless magic had grown over time and he tended to practice it as often as he could.

"I don't know about you, but I want to eat some of their food," grinned Sirius.

Amelia laughed and Harry too agreed that he was interested in sampling the local cuisine. After a heavy lunch, they went to Paris and toured one of the best shopping districts of Magical France. Harry found several pairs of beautifully designed magical wrist watches which he purchased while Amelia made Sirius buy clothes. The next two days went by in laughter and shopping.

On the twenty-third of July, Harry was nervous. He knew that he was very talented for his age, but he had never participated in a Duelling Championship before. There were witches and wizards from all over the world who would be taking part. Sirius and Amelia had helped him train ever since he had come back home from Hogwarts. He had also been given tips by the portrait of Fergus Potter, his great-grandfather, who was an International Duelling Champion himself. He ate a light breakfast and dressed in appropriate clothes that didn't hinder his agility. Once they were ready, the three of them Apparated to the arena where the championship would be held.

There was a person outside checking the names of the contestants. Harry stood in line, with Sirius and Amelia behind him.

"Name and country?" asked the man, not looking up.

"Harry Potter, Magical Britain."

The man's eyes widened as he looked up, and his jaw dropped in surprise and awe. He flushed when he saw Sirius glaring at him, but it was not every day you get to meet the boy who had survived and deflected a bloody Killing Curse when he was a baby!

"Sign here please, Mr Potter. You may enter through that gate over there. You'll have to submit your wand for inspection and you'll be informed about anything else later. Here are your name tag and badge. Good luck."

"Thank you," muttered Harry as he turned away.

"Stay calm," Amelia muttered as they walked towards the gate for the participants. "There are talented kids here, true, but I doubt they would be able to match your skill. Most importantly, do the best you can and nobody will think any less of you."

"Thanks, Aunt Amy."

"We'll be right there in the audience, cheering for you, understood?" assured Sirius. "Now go and show them what you can do. We have the utmost confidence in you."

Harry smiled at them both and turned to enter through the gate. Sirius took Amelia's hand in his as they both walked to a different gate to enter the arena. They paid for their seats, choosing the most expensive ones so that they could be as close to the duelling arena as possible.

"He'll be fine," whispered Amelia, squeezing his hand comfortingly. Sirius took a deep breath and nodded.

After about an hour, the lights dimmed around them, with the stage being prominently illuminated as the host stepped onto the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began in French, but both of them could understand what he was saying. "Welcome to the Under-13 International Duelling Championship for the year 2002! We're going to have our preliminary rounds today, and those who qualify will be eligible for tomorrow's tournament. Those who qualify for the Quarter-Finals in the morning will take part in the Simi-Finals that afternoon. The winners of the Semi-Finals will take part in the Finals that night. So, shall we begin?" he asked and the crowd roared.

"Our first match is between Mr Adonis of Greece and Mr Potter of Britain. Let's give them a big round of applause!"

People clapped, but many began whispering when they heard Harry's name. The Boy-Who-Lived was known all over the world for surviving and deflecting the dreaded Killing Curse when he was but a baby.

Harry stepped forward towards the arena and bowed to his opponent who bowed back. He then extended his left leg forward; his left arm was raised for balance, his wand was pointed sixty degrees away from his opponent. His face was expressionless and back straight. This was a stance he had worked on. It provided a means for both defence and offence, depending on his move. Harry's opponent took an offensive position. The boy was going to strike the second he was ready. His wand was pointed at Harry, so he would use a spell that didn't require any elaborate wand movements. The best bet was either the Disarming or Stunning spell, mused Harry.

"The rules are simple. No lethal spells can be used, and unforgivable curses are banned; standard International Duelling Rules, level one. The duel ends when the other party is incapacitated or yields. Get ready. BEGIN!"

As Harry had predicted, the Greek boy shouted " _Expelliarmus!"_

A red jet of light headed towards Harry, but he neatly dodged it.

' _Langlock; Expelliarmus; Stupefy!'_

The three silent spells hit the mark. His opponent's tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth, his wand flew out of his hand and the stunner hit him in the chest. The boy dropped to the ground, unconscious. The stadium was quiet. No one had _ever_ expected a twelve-year-old boy to perform spells non-verbally.

The host recovered quickly and cried, "Amazing! That was an impressive display of non-verbal magic! The winner is Mr Harry Potter of Britain." The crowd roared and clapped for the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry bowed to them and exited the arena.

Harry blasted through Round Two as well. Since it was Under-13, the duels took very little time. But he had to admit, the competitor he faced was good for her age, but Harry was a lot better. Harry hit her with a few jinxes for which the girl used a shield, but was eventually defeated when Harry cast the _Auguamenti_ charm, soaking her to the bone, and stunning her to end the duel.

The Quarter-Finals had twelve participants. Here, Harry decided to dodge rather than fire. His opponent was quickly getting tired after firing so many spells, and he took advantage of that and fired a stunner of his own when the opponent had just stopped casting spells, ending the duel.

The Semi-Finals were much better, in Harry's opinion. There were six duellists. If Harry won this round, he would be automatically qualified for the finals thanks to his record of wins in the previous rounds. The other five would have to fight in another round and the winner would join him in the Finals.

His opponent in the Semi-Finals was a boy from Brazil. The other wizard was cautious as he knew Harry was a fierce opponent. He dodged spells as well, and instead of conventional spells, he used a mixture of different charms in his arsenal. It definitely worked, as Harry got hit once when he least expected it, but managed to overcome his opponent by using his advanced knowledge of charms against him.

The Finals were between Harry and a girl from Japan. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the finals of the Under-13 International Duelling Championship! We have today our two finalists – Akeno Hana from Japan and Harry Potter from Britain! Both have proven that they are way ahead of their peers in terms of magical knowledge. Take your places, finalists. Get ready. BEGIN!"

But to the crowd's surprise, neither party fired any spells. Harry had observed this girl and realised that she liked to set a trap for her opponents.

After several seconds, Harry decided to lay a trap of his own. He took his wand behind his back and started shifting it between his hands. The girl didn't know that he was ambidextrous. He could use that to his advantage. She would probably shift her focus to the hand where he was holding his wand. If he could fool her and attack with the other, she would be thrown off guard. The crowd watched in confusion as Harry shifted his wand from one hand to the other, the entire time keeping it away from his opponent's eyes.

Amelia's eyes narrowed in calculation. This wasn't a technique she had seen before. Just a moment later, Harry suddenly attacked. The witch had expected him to fire with his right hand, as she had seen it twitch, and that was where she aimed her spell. But she figured out too late that Harry was using his left hand. She dodged, but was still caught in the path of the hex. Painful boils erupted on her upper arm. Everyone in the arena realised that he was simply toying with her, trying to predict her movements by striking first. It was standard duelling tactics.

Harry smirked as he dodged another spell coming his way. She sent a volley of hexes and jinxes his way, but he switched to Transfiguration, one of his favourites in a duel. He conjured a huge bunch of leaves with sticky sap and banished them towards her. The girl set the leaves on fire and banished them back at Harry. Harry expected this and used the _Auguamenti_ charm to put off the fire and create a ball of water, a very impressive feat of magic. He pushed it above the ground where it was rotating at a fast rate using a smart array of quick runes.

He then cast a variety of spells that the girl dodged. It was clear that her opponent wanted to end it and deal with the water bubble, so she said mouted a spell and a white beam of light shot out of her wand. Harry cast a stunning spell and both spells connected. Flashes of light could be seen as white and red clashed with each other. After several seconds, Harry let go of the spell, dodged, looked at the ball of water suspended above and slashed his wand in the air. The water fell directly on the girl below. Harry immediately took his chance and fired the spell chain he had used in the first duel. His opponent lay unconscious on the floor.

The audience was stunned.

"What a spectacular display of the various branches of magic and sheer brilliance for one so young! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE WINNER OF THE UNDER-13 INTERNATIONAL DUELLING CHAMPIONSHIP OF 2002 IS HARRY POTTER OF MAGICAL BRITAIN! Congratulations, Mr Potter! And congratulations to our runner-up, Miss Hana of Magical Japan!"

The arena was cleared and the Minister of Magic of France came up to them to give them the cash prizes and trophies. A smaller trophy was handed to the runner-up and Harry was given the larger one. The crowd roared and several people took pictures as he hoisted his cup in the air, and Harry Potter couldn't control the tears which pooled in his eyes as he saw the proud, beaming faces of Sirius Black and Amelia Bones.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"I knew you could do it!" Daphne grinned as she followed Harry to the Trophy Room at Potter Castle. This was a place which was filled with all sorts of medals and awards earned by the members of the Potter family over the centuries. He carefully placed the trophy in the front, and couldn't help but smile himself.

"I was actually quite nervous," he confessed softly. "But it was well worth it. I can't believe I won!"

Daphne smiled widely at him. "I knew the moment you told me that you were taking part in the championship that you would win."

Harry simply chuckled as they returned to the drawing room of the castle. It was just the two of them here, but neither of them felt awkward anymore. They spent all their time in school together anyway, so this was no different.

"My parents are thrilled," she continued. "And so is Astoria; she was actually asking Father whether she could take part in the duelling championship too."

Harry smiled faintly as he grabbed the newspaper that was lying on the centre table. "It looks like the news has gotten out," he commented as he saw the headlines.

 _BOY-WHO-LIVED WINS UNDER-13_ _INTERNATIONAL DUELLING CHAMPIONSHIP_

"What do you expect?" snorted Daphne. "At least no one is saying anything negative this time. Rita Skeeter can't write a positive article to save herself."

"Yes, I know," said Harry darkly. He didn't like that woman. She had written a scathing article about their betrothal and also about him being accepted into the accelerated program. Recently, there was a small article questioning Sirius Black's ability to take care of Harry because of his 'instability' caused by his stay at Azkaban.

The editor had resigned after information about his dealings with several smugglers made its way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry was sure that Sirius had something to do with that story being leaked to the Ministry, but unfortunately, his godfather did not seem to have any information on Rita Skeeter.

Right now, though, Harry wasn't worried about that. He was wondering how he was going to handle the situation with Remus Lupin the next day; someone who had been a close family friend once, and a person Harry was least interested in meeting.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

On the first of August, Remus Lupin appeared in the entrance hall of Black Manor in Scotland with a flash of green flames _._ He was greeted by a house-elf that showed him to the formal drawing room. Remus of in awe of the wealth and splendour of the place; he had forgotten what large manors were like, as Potter Manor was the only home of an Ancient House he had visited. As he entered the room, he saw Sirius sitting in one of the plush armchairs. Remus was quite surprised by his friend's appearance. Gone were the days when Sirius used to have an amused expression on his face nearly all the time. His face was impassive and his eyes still had a haunted look to them that would probably never disappear. He was dressed in expensive clothes and the Black family signet ring was gleaming from his finger.

"Remus," Sirius said softly, his lips curving into a small smile. "It's been far too long. Please take a seat."

Remus Lupin did not miss the formal way in which Sirius greeted him. He also didn't miss the way he called him by his first name and not by his Marauder nickname. He took a seat on the sofa, trying not to let the décor bother him. He looked terribly out of place.

"Nice to see you again, Sirius," said Remus quietly after several seconds of silence. "How have you been?"

"Just fine as any prisoner who had lived for ten years in a high-security cell in Azkaban would be."

Remus winced. He paused for a moment and blurted out in excitement, "Where's Harry?"

He followed Sirius' gaze to the other side of the drawing room and his eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby, but this was certainly not what he had expected. There was a resemblance to James Potter, most definitely, but he could see a lot of Lily too. The boy didn't have the messy hair of his father, but instead, it flowed in slight waves like his mother's. Harry was quite tall for his age and looked fit. He was wearing a light blue shirt with black trousers and an informal open robe was slung over his shoulders. He was leaning against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankles, and arms folded against his chest. Remus could see a silver locket glittering under the sunlight and also a blue diamond ring which adorned Harry's right ring finger – the Head of House ring. The last time Remus had seen it, James had still been alive.

"Harry," Remus greeted him with a warm smile. "The last time I saw you, you were just a baby! How are you doing?"

"I'm doing just fine, Mr Lupin," replied Harry neutrally. "And that is precisely what I'd like to talk to you about."

"Harry," said Sirius sternly, with a hint of warning in his voice.

The boy silenced himself immediately, looking slightly abashed. Remus was surprised that Harry was willing to listen to Sirius. According to Dumbledore, the young Potter heir was quite the rebel. Unfortunately, Remus had not understood what kind of rebel the Headmaster was talking about. He had pictured Harry to be like James, which was far from the truth.

"How are you, Remus?" asked Sirius, his attention on his guest once more. "How has life been for the past eleven years?"

The man shrugged. "It's been fine, I guess. I've been abroad mostly, working in the Muggle world since I can't find work elsewhere. Accommodation has been the worst problem as all magical governments have strict laws about werewolves living near a large wizarding population, but I can make do in the Muggle world. I was completely cut off from Britain and only came back the day before yesterday after Professor Dumbledore found me. He told me what happened and once I found out that you were exonerated, I immediately contacted you."

Sirius hummed. "May I ask a simple question?" he asked quietly. When Remus nodded, looking confused, he said, "Why didn't you ever check on Harry all these years? I know that you were not eligible to be his guardian, but you could have just popped over there from time to time to ensure he was safe and happy. Why didn't you?"

"Dumbledore said it was not safe, Sirius," Remus replied, frowning slightly. "I did ask him if I could meet Harry, but he declined, and I've never held that against him. I had to maintain distance. The magical population is scared of werewolves as it is, so it would have been dangerous for me to interact with Harry at all. What if I'd infected him accidentally?"

"You transform one night a month," said Sirius pointedly. "You didn't even have to talk to him. All you had to do was observe him and ensure that he was happy. You couldn't be bothered to look into the living conditions of the only son of your best friend who was kidnapped by Dumbledore and left with _Petunia_ _,_ of all people? Knowing how Lily felt about her sister, you still stayed away?"

Remus was startled. "Sirius, Dumbledore said Harry was safe and happy there, so what more could I do? How could I doubt his words? Besides, it all worked out, didn't it? Harry looks perfectly healthy. You were also released from Azkaban and now he's living with you. So what's the problem?"

"What's the problem?" Harry repeated, his voice very soft and cold. "The problem, Mr Lupin, is that I was neither safe nor happy with those filthy Muggles I call my relatives. Not one person in the magical world cared enough to check on me. They all thought the wise old Albus Dumbledore would ensure that their precious saviour lived a pampered existence. Were you not aware of just how much Petunia hates magic? How much she loathed my mother? Put the pieces together, Mr Lupin. What do you think she would do if she found the freakish son of her freakish whore of a sister who got herself blown up by consorting with freaks, placed in a basket on her doorstep in the middle of the night? Those were Petunia's words, not mine. She and her bastard of a husband put me in a tiny cupboard under the stairs, starved me for days on end, turned me into a slave, and did their best to beat the magic out of me. I assure you, I was far from happy or healthy there."

Remus turned white as a sheet. "But Dumbledore –"

"Ah, yes, Dumbledore, funny story," said Harry sarcastically. He would never have been this candid about his experience at the Dursleys, but he had been pissed ever since he had learnt about Remus Lupin's existence. "As I mentioned earlier, he left me there on a bloody doorstep, knowing that my father had expressly forbidden me to be placed there in his Will. He also sealed the said Will which clearly stated that Sirius was not the Secret Keeper. He has been lying to you the whole time. He knew what life I would lead when he gave me to the Dursleys. He knowingly threw Sirius in Azkaban. I was nearly beaten to death by my uncle, and the only reason I'm alive today is because I escaped through pure desperation and accidental magic."

Harry took a deep breath. Logically, he knew that Remus Lupin didn't have to care about him at all. He was not his godfather not did he shoulder any responsibility in raising him, but Harry remembered all those times when he had cried in his cupboard, broken and bruised, wishing that someone, _anyone_ _,_ on his father's side would come and take him away. It was difficult to forgive the man, even though Harry tried. He didn't think for a moment that he could ever have a relationship with Remus like he did with Sirius.

"No, I can't believe that," said Remus vehemently. "Dumbledore would never do something like that, Harry. You must be mistaken. He told me that you both hold a grudge against him but I never realised that it was to this level. Sirius, this is _Dumbledore_ we're talking about. Surely you can't honestly believe that!"

"Once upon a time, you would be right, I wouldn't have believed it," said Sirius quietly. "But times change and people change. There are too many inconstancies regarding Dumbledore and his actions against me and Harry. He was the one to perform the Fidelius Charm, from what I found out later. How could he not know that Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper? Don't even get me started on his actions with Harry. He testified for Snape, _Snape,_ but decided I was guilty and denied me a trial. He is nothing but a manipulative old bastard."

Remus fought the urge to growl. To him, Albus Dumbledore was the Alpha. To not obey the alpha or for someone to insult the alpha was something he couldn't handle. But at the same time, Sirius and Harry were part of the pack. The way this was going, Remus knew he would be forced to choose a side and his inner wolf was howling in pain.

"Sirius, think rationally," he pleaded. "Albus Dumbledore is the Leader of the Light. He was the fighting force against the war with Voldemort. I can't believe you can believe such things about him. This isn't you. Dumbledore told me you are also spending time with Malfoy and his ilk, joining their faction of the Wizengamot. What's happening to you, Sirius? Can't you see that you are letting your hatred for Dumbledore blind you against your true enemies? If Voldemort ever returns like the headmaster believes, we won't stand a chance! Professor Dumbledore is our only hope!"

Harry's eye twitched as he fought to keep his anger in check. Clamping down his Occlumency shields, he suddenly moved forward.

"Permission to leave, Godfather?" he asked formally. He needed to burn some steam, and much to his joy, Sirius had gotten him a new Nimbus Thousand and One for his birthday. Flying always helped him calm down.

"Of course, Harry," said Sirius as he watched the boy walk out of the drawing room. A minute later, he felt the wards inform him that he had gone back to Black Castle.

"He's nothing like what I expected," said Remus quietly. "Is he always that cold?"

"Yes. And he's quite different from James," commented Sirius. "He's more like his mother, but even that's barely noticeable. He's quite – unique. Or rather, his experiences have made him unique."

"Do you really believe all those things about Dumbledore, Sirius?" asked Remus desperately.

"Tell me something," said Sirius, after a pause. "It's been a whole year since Harry came to Hogwarts. Why didn't you at least write him a letter? He's an orphan who doesn't know about his parents. A simple letter saying, _'I was your father's best friend and would you like to know more about him'_ would have been enough."

"I thought it would be prudent not to," exhaled Remus. "I didn't have any contact with him all these years, so I figured he wouldn't appreciate me writing to him now. Besides, Dumbledore didn't want me to get in touch with him at all."

Sirius was quickly losing patience. "Dumbledore, Dumbledore, _Dumbledore_!" he yelled in anger. "Even with all the evidence in your face, you still look up to that man. I can't believe it! What has he done for you that make you worship him like that?"

"He provided me with education when no one else would have!"

"And _we_ stayed by your side even after knowing what you were! James and I decided to learn how to become Animagi at the tender age of eleven so as to help you! We gave you companionship. What has Dumbledore done? He sent you on useless missions for the Order, trying to convert werewolves to his cause. Why would the werewolves want to join Dumbledore at all? I found the whole notion ridiculous back then and I still stand by it. He's using you, Remus, can't you see that? He never once helped you find a job, here or abroad, and he's the fucking Supreme Mugwump, for Merlin's sake! He never cared about you until now; until he needed you again. You're nothing more than a pawn to him!"

"You've changed, Sirius, you really have! Dumbledore was right. Your grudge and anger could be the death of us all, not to mention could put Harry in grave danger!"

"Stop right there," said Sirius coldly. "I know how to take care of Harry. I will do my job without Dumbledore's help."

"Like you did ten years ago?" snapped Remus. "Without Dumbledore, who knows what might have happened to him!"

Sirius' expression contorted, with his eyes blazing with fury. "Is that so?" he whispered dangerously. "Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Remus?"

"Always," spat Remus angrily.

With that, he walked back to the Floo in the entrance hall. Sirius sank back into his armchair, absentmindedly summoning a bottle of Firewhisky and a glass. Pouring a generous amount, he emptied it in one gulp, relishing the burning sensation.

He had lost another friend tonight. A lone tear slid down his pale face, but his anger at the headmaster increased tenfold. Yet another friendship had been destroyed thanks to the old man. He would never forgive Dumbledore; ever.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I know that this chapter is sort of a repeat from Lightning Lord, but I hope you can also see the subtle differences in Sirius Black. Either way, I wanted to say something about Dumbledore. TruBlack said that canon Dumbledore was a master manipulator and no one ever figured him out as he was subtle. I would like to point out that the reason no one figured it out was due to the fact that we didn't know anything about Dumbledore's manipulations until the end of the seventh book, and Harry never rebelled against him. All we see is Dumbledore's plans that lead Harry to martyrdom. His subtle manipulations should have taken care of Lucius Malfoy or Fudge in Book 5 but it didn't, so he wasn't all-knowing. Thank you for your reviews!_**


	8. The second year begins

**_Chapter 8_**

 ** _The Second Year Begins_**

It was now the last week of the holidays. Harry had spent his time alternating between Black Manor, Greengrass Manor and Potter Castle. The two months had been used to learn as much as possible from Alfred Potter who was delighted to teach his descendant again. Harry spent more time learning Runes and Potions from Alfred along with several spells from the family grimoire. Sirius supplemented his education by bringing Harry's Defence and Transfiguration training up to speed. He also told Harry, much to the boy's immense joy, that he would start teaching him how to become an Animagus.

In the last week of August, the book lists finally arrived. Just as he was about to head over to Black Manor, three elves popped inside the dining room. It looked like they were fighting.

"Master, Dobby is trying to sneak into the castle," cried Tippy furiously. Harry didn't miss the stark contrast in their appearance. While Tippy and Sally were dressed in proper uniforms, the other elf, who seemed quite weak and unhealthy, was wearing a horrible looking tea towel.

"Who are you?" asked Harry, with narrowed eyes. "And why did you try to break into my home?"

"I am Dobby, sir," squeaked the elf. "Dobby is coming here to warn you, sir. Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts School this year! Dark things are planned! Dobby has to protect Harry Potter!"

"Tippy, Sally, release him," ordered Harry. He kneeled down to match the elf's height and asked, "What are you talking about, Dobby? What terrible things?"

Dobby burst into furious tears at the gesture. "Harry Potter is greater than Dobby ever thought! He treats Dobby like an equal! But Harry Potter sir should not go back to school. There is a plot, a plot to make the most dangerous things happen!"

"What dangerous things? Who's plotting them?"

"Dobby cannot say, sir. Dobby's master doesn't even know he is here! Dobby would have to iron his hands for betraying his master. But Dobby doesn't care, for Harry Potter's safety is most important. Don't go to school, sir. Great danger is going to befall the castle this year. Harry Potter must protect himself and stay safe," said the elf, and snapped its fingers and disappeared.

Harry frowned. "Guys, who is Dobby's master?"

"Dobby is the Malfoy elf, Master Harry. He is treated very, very badly by his masters," answered Sally sadly.

Harry gritted his teeth. He had a soft spot for house-elves and he did not like people mistreating them. But what was Dobby talking about?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

An hour later, Harry and Sirius were in Diagon Alley, shopping for his school supplies. Despite his godson's protests, Sirius had put his foot down and decided to pay for all their purchases, saying that it was his duty as Harry's guardian to do so. Once uniforms, potions ingredients and other stationery were taken care of, they headed to Flourish and Blotts, which was playing host to a throng of people, including the press.

"Eh, this is bad," muttered Harry. "Quick, cast a glamour on me."

"Good idea," Sirius nodded. With a wave of his wand, they were both under a simple glamour charm. It turned out to be a good thing because Gilderoy Lockhart was posing for photographs. Just after Harry finished buying his fourth and fifth-year books, there was a scuffle at the entrance of the shop. The duo looked at each other in surprise when they saw Arthur Weasley physically fighting Lucius Malfoy. Harry could hear the last bit of their conversation.

"Here girl, take your book. It's the best your father can give you," snarled Lucius, thrusting the books into her cauldron. Sirius shook his head as he steered Harry out of the store.

"What was that all about?"

"Arthur Weasley's Muggle Protection Act," answered Sirius. "There have been several raids conducted in connection with the bill. It's being endorsed by Dumbledore, actually, but the bill itself is poorly written. Lucius Malfoy is quite angry about it."

"I would be too," Harry scowled slightly. "There should be a wizard's protection act from the threat known as Muggles, not the opposite. _We_ are the ones in danger, yet I hear no talk about that!"

Sirius tilted his head to the side as they Portkeyed to Black Manor. He observed Harry for a moment and said, "You don't like Muggles, do you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Harry defensively. Sirius merely narrowed his eyes and his young charge flushed slightly under his stern gaze.

"I'm asking you because I need to know," said Sirius as they entered the informal drawing room. "I am your Regent and I represent you on the Wizengamot and for that, I need to know what your thoughts are. I've observed that you're not of a liberal mindset, but I never pegged you for a red-blooded traditionalist."

"I'm not," Harry corrected him, regaining control of his emotions once more. "I'm more of a centrist, from what Grandfather Charlus' portrait told me; a balance between the two. I believe we need new ideas while also retaining our magical traditions and beliefs. You have to understand that I grew up both in the Muggle and magical worlds. I have a unique vantage point. I deeply respect our traditions and I don't want to see them gone. Dumbledore's supporters have a very narrow-minded view of what they believe is dark and light. They'll convert the magical world into a replica of the Muggle world, if they have enough power. The traditionalists, on the other hand, are so deeply rooted in their beliefs that they can't ever think outside the box, from what I've read from history and observed myself. We'll crumble from within if they are in power. We need a balance between the two factions; surely there are others who aren't extremists."

"That certainly is a novel idea," said Sirius after a few minutes. "And I have to say I agree with you. But I need to ask … what are your thoughts on Muggles and Muggle-borns?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I don't have a problem with Muggle-borns; in fact, I believe they have amazing potential and unconventional thinking. Just look at some of the Muggle-borns we have today! My mother was not the only exceptional witch or wizard they had to offer; there are bound to be others who are talented too. But there are some who tend to look down upon us, saying that we're backward as compared to Muggles. I've heard a couple of Muggle-borns say that. According to Hermione Granger, an ex-classmate of mine, wizards don't have a shred of logic. She believes we are archaic while her vaunted Muggle world is perfect and that we need to change our ways and become more like Muggles." He sneered as he said, "Tell me that doesn't make you angry."

Sirius nodded slowly. "I must admit those are statements that do get me mad. You have to understand, Harry, that there are bigots on both sides, and the Death Eaters used such Muggle-borns as examples to further their agenda. Your mother was never like this, you know. She completely embraced the magical world when she came to Hogwarts. Within a few years, no one could tell if she was Muggle-raised or wizard-raised. Unfortunately, not all Muggle-borns are like that. Lily's attitude, with the way she whole-heartedly embraced our culture and traditions, was the only reason your grandparents agreed to the marriage. They were furious at first, when they realised that James wanted to get married to a Muggle-born. After several fights, James managed to convince them to meet Lily and give her a chance. The first meeting was kind of frosty, from what I heard, but Aunt Dorea had to grudgingly admit that Lily did not behave like any other Muggle-born. Several months later, after they got to know her better, your grandparents agreed to the marriage."

"I know. Their portraits told me and I've also read my parents' journals. But my point is that the traditionalists will always point out such Muggle-borns and use it against the rest. Also, Sirius, don't you think the International Statute of Secrecy is breached with each Muggle-born being informed? Each Muggle-born means two parents informed and maybe siblings as well. The more Muggle-borns, the more Muggles know about magic. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of secrecy? How can you believe that word wouldn't spread amongst the Muggles about the existence of magic? I'm genuinely confused about that."

"Harry, you are treading in very, _very_ dangerous waters here," warned Sirius. "What you're saying is exactly what Voldemort preached."

"I know," said Harry bitterly. "That's why I never raised this issue with anyone but you, but I really do want to know the answer. I've lived with Muggles, Sirius. I have dealt with not just my relatives but also Muggles in the neighbourhood and at school. Trust me, there is a reason I don't like Muggles. None of them would react favourably if their child is born magical. Do you think I'm the only child in the world who has been abused by Muggles because of magic? There are bound to be others as well, right? Isn't there some truth to that? Isn't that also why MACUSA completely cut off from the Muggle world, banning wizards from interacting with Muggles? I've heard that it is similar in Asia and Africa as well. Why can't we do the same?"

"It's true that Magical Europe is far more liberal when it comes to wizard-Muggle relations as compared to the rest of the world. Tell me something. Are you saying all this _only_ because of _your_ experience with Muggles? What about those Muggles who don't hate magic? You can't just vilify all Muggles or expect others to do so just because _you_ had a bad experience with them. That would mean you are imposing your beliefs on others, which was what the last war was all about. Think about it."

Sirius went to his room later, pondering the issue. He never thought he would see the day when the son of James and Lily was anti-Muggle. He honestly didn't know how to proceed because his godson's argument made sense.

He would have to think about this; find out more. The Black family had contacts throughout Europe, so he could do some research. Amelia also had international contacts, not to mention had access to restricted information at the Ministry of Magic. He owed Harry an answer because he himself had to admit that what Harry said was true. Being raised a Black, he had been taught the true history of why wizards had gone into hiding in the first place, not the diluted version that was made available by Muggle-sympathising historians like Bathilda Bagshot. The witch hunts back then had truly been horrifying; nothing how the school books described them.

Tens of thousands of witches and wizards, maybe more, especially defenceless children, had been tortured to death back then, in Magical Europe _alone_. Countless more had died all over the world. The situation had been too dire to contemplate. That was why the entire international community had teamed up to create the International Statute of Secrecy, and that was the reason it was enforced so rigidly by the I.C.W.

But he was also worried about Harry. The boy was walking down a dangerous path which others like Grindelwald and Voldemort had taken before, and Sirius vowed that he would do everything in his power so that his godson did not make life choices erroneously for something he believed was right.

Who knew parenting could be so hard?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The first of September dawned bright and early. Harry took his time getting ready, finished his breakfast and once done, shrunk his trunk and Flooed to the platform where he boarded the train. He spotted Daphne and Tracy already there, so he sat down and began talking. He didn't get time to read much as he was constantly pelted with questions about the duelling tournament by the acquaintances he had in all four Houses. Neville Longbottom was ecstatic because he had listened to Professor Flitwick's advice from the end of the previous term and bought a wand which suited him. He had practised magic during the summer and was quite happy with the results.

When they reached Hogsmeade, Harry gave a curt nod in the direction of Draco Malfoy who nodded back at him. The two of them didn't talk much and maintained distance, choosing to nod to each other if the other passed by. They didn't share any classes, so there wasn't much scope for them to interact, with each having a different circle of friends. Harry also spoke to the older students with whom he shared classes with the previous term. He would be their classmate for another term since he would be starting fourth-year classes this time. After the winter holidays, he would be advancing to the fifth years' class.

The sorting went on as normal and Harry soon found himself back in his room at Ravenclaw Tower. Tippy had already expanded his room and put his clothes away, so Harry simply undressed and got into bed. The next morning, he was by the lake, as usual, and ran and exercised for nearly two hours. Once done, he took a shower and got dressed. There were a lot more people staring at him when he entered the Great Hall, but he tried to not let it bother him. He received his schedule from Professor Flitwick and joined the rest of the fourth years to head to Defence class which he shared with the Gryffindors.

"I really hope he's competent," said Harry quietly.

"Why do –"

"– you say that?"

"I've read all his books and do you know what I found? Nothing. There wasn't a single incantation mentioned anywhere," explained Harry as he took his usual seat next to Fred and George Weasley. "What's the point of prescribing them as textbooks if they're not going to help us learn? I'm starting to wonder if he's faked it all, claiming fiction to be factual."

"Our mum is a big fan of dear Lockhart," said George.

"She would be heartbroken if that were true," agreed Fred.

Their Defence professor soon entered the room, wearing bright yellow robes. Harry grimaced; he would burn such clothes on principle. They were way too cheerful for his tastes.

Lockhart gave a dramatic entrance and pointed to the various portraits of him and said, "Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League; five-time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile Award, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Ah, I see you've bought my complete set of books. Well done. Let's start with a quiz, shall we?"

He handed over sheets of parchment to everyone. "Now don't worry, this isn't anything difficult. You have thirty minutes, so begin!"

Harry looked at the questions incredulously. They were all about Lockhart and not one of them was related to the subject he was being paid to teach! Who the hell cared what the man's favourite colour was or what his secret ambition was? This was ridiculous! He could hear Fred and George snickering next to him, so he knew that the two of them were writing something embarrassing. He instead wrote something on the margin in his neat handwriting –

 _I did not sign up for a Gilderoy Lockhart class._

 _I signed up for a Defence class. I refuse to participate_.

There. Done. He removed his copy of _Curses and Counter-Curses_ from his bag and began reading. When Lockhart collected their answer sheets after the time was up, his eyes bulged when he saw the answers written by Fred and George, but also spotted the empty sheet that belonged to Harry Potter, except for the line at the top.

"Detention with me, Misters Weasley and Mr Potter," said Lockhart, with a beaming smile. "I'm sure you will appreciate why I give these tests once we get to know each other better."

Harry rolled his eyes. He gripped the locket that was hanging from around his neck and a notice-me-not charm activated. If the fool was not going to teach anything, there was nothing Harry could do, but he would be damned if he was going to waste time in class. His O.W.L.s were less than a year away, and he had to prepare for them.

After Defence and Charms, Harry was heading towards the Great Hall when there was a bright flash of light. Harry blinked his eyes and flicked his wand out of his holster, suspecting a threat, only to find a first-year boy looking at him with big eyes.

"Don't you think it's inappropriate to take someone else's picture without their permission?" snapped Harry irritably. Knowing that his magic was volatile, he exhaled slowly in order to calm down, and his emotionless mask was back in place a few seconds later. He gazed at the photographer with cool eyes.

The boy in question flushed, but his excitement was showing. "Hi Harry," he said eagerly. "I'm Colin, Colin Creevey. I'm a first year Gryffindor. Do you think – would it be alright if – you know – I could take a picture with you?"

Before he could answer, things went downhill. One of the seventh year Ravenclaws, who was quite vocal in his protest against Harry being in the accelerated program, began laughing.

"What is it now, Potter?" he asked snidely. "Can't handle being on the front page of the newspaper often enough that you give signed photographs now?"

Lockhart chose that moment to appear at the scene, obviously heading for lunch himself, and heard the last comment. "Oh, signed photographs? Who's giving signed photographs? Come on, Mr Creevey. A double portrait; can't do better than that. We'll both sign it for you!"

"I don't think so," Harry interrupted, pushing past the new teacher. "I don't have the time or the patience to indulge in this nonsense. Get yourself someone else to bolster your fame, Professor Lockhart. I'm not available."

Harry didn't even wait for the man's response because he was already heading towards the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He sat down next to Daphne and began piling his plate with food.

"Trouble?" asked Daphne hesitantly.

"Some Gryffindor twit decided to take photographs of me in the middle of the corridor," said Harry angrily. "Then Jones acts like a jealous arsehole. That's when Lockhart shows up and annoys me even more. That guy is a moron. Who the hell made him a teacher?"

"I'll tell you who," Theo Nott answered as he sat opposite to them. "It's someone with a long white beard who calls himself the headmaster. Lockhart was horrible. We had him just last period."

"What did he do?"

"What did he not do?" exclaimed Daphne. "He let a bunch of Cornish pixies loose in the classroom. The pixies destroyed the room, picked up poor Neville and hung him from the chandelier and caused mayhem. The idiot professor decided to flee rather than help. Granger said he was giving us ' _practical experience_ _'_."

"Any chance we could get rid of him?" asked Harry hopefully.

"No," said Blaise Zabini. "All teachers have a contract. Unless Lockhart does something drastic, we're stuck with him for a year."

"Great," muttered Harry. "Dumbledore just _had_ to pick the worst teacher possible for my O.W.L. year. How are we going to cope?"

His question was met with silence from the others.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

A week later, Harry found himself at the Quidditch pitch for the try-outs for the Ravenclaw House team. While he couldn't be bothered if his House won the Quidditch Cup or not, he couldn't ignore the fact that he greatly enjoyed the game. So, after some encouragement from Sirius and Daphne, he decided to give it a try.

Holding his new Nimbus Two Thousand and One in his hand, Harry stood with the rest of the potential players who were trying for Seeker. The spot was already occupied by a third-year girl named Cho Chang, but traditionally, try-outs were held for all positions, except for the captain's. And since the captain of the Ravenclaw team was a Chaser and not a Seeker, he had a chance to take Cho Chang's place.

The try-outs began for Chasers and Beaters first, followed by the Keeper. Once the rest of the team was formed, the captain, a sixth-year girl by the name of Abigail Turner, turned her attention to the Seekers. After a few rounds of elimination, only two remained – Harry and Cho.

"Alright, you two, I'll keep this simple. You have to qualify two more rounds – catch the snitch once without the bludgers and catch it again _with_ the bludgers. Up in the air!" she shouted.

Harry gripped his Nimbus Two Thousand and One as he shot off into the air. He flew to an impressive height and stopped.

"I'm releasing the golden snitch – NOW!"

The small golden snitch disappeared immediately so there was no point in looking for it. But Harry did not like waiting for the snitch to appear, with nothing to do. He flew around the pitch for a few minutes, diving and ascending. Finally, he saw the snitch near the ground at the end of the goal posts. He quickly accelerated and could sense Chang behind him. He dived at a sharp angle to throw her off, but she was relentless. He approached the ground with speed; he could hear a few girls scream in fright, but he suddenly pulled up, with his gloved fist in the air, holding the golden snitch.

He approached the captain who looked slack-jawed at his performance.

"You could have killed me!" cried a furious Cho Chang, who landed next to him. "What do you think you were doing, diving at such speed?"

"That's the point; the opposing Seeker would not be able to follow me. Captain, could you please release the bludgers?"

Abigail Turner grinned. "Boys, give him the best you've got," she said to the beaters. The Beaters took their bats and released the bludgers. Harry and Cho took their positions and Turner released the snitch again. Immediately, both Seekers found bludgers headed their way and had to dive to get away. Harry again started flying from one end of the pitch to the other. After five minutes of dodging bludgers, he spotted the snitch. He immediately darted towards it, but could sense a bludger coming his way. He slowed down, spun three hundred and sixty degrees in mid-air and hit the bludger with the tail of his broomstick so that it would trouble Chang instead, and his aim was accurate as it did hit her. He dived and caught the snitch.

When he landed, people were applauding.

"That was awesome, Potter! Not only did you get the snitch, but you sent the bludger away too! Welcome to the team," said Turner.

Harry smiled.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

On the Saturday of the second week of September, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak over himself and slipped out of the great oak doors of the castle. Walking towards the Whomping Willow, he levitated a stick and used it to press the knot at the base of the tree, just as he had been taught by his godfather. The tree suddenly stopped being violent and Harry crawled into the secret passageway leading towards the Shrieking Shack. He removed his cloak and walked up the stairs. When he entered the room, he saw Sirius cleaning it with several waves of his wand.

"Hey, Sirius," Harry greeted him with a small smile. "I got into the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team!"

Sirius grinned proudly. He moved closer to give the boy a light hug. "Congratulations, Harry! I knew you could do it! Seeker, right?"

"Yes," said Harry, as he took a seat in the armchair. "The first match will be held soon. Shall we get started?"

Sirius nodded as he took a seat as well. After pausing to gather his thoughts, he began.

"The Animagus transformation is not as horribly difficult as people make it out to be," he explained. "The reason it is considered difficult by most is because Transfiguration itself is a difficult subject to master. You are changing the definition of the object in question, and that is significantly more difficult than Charms where you enchant an object. Until now, whatever you've learnt is inanimate or animal transfiguration and basics of elemental transfiguration, am I right?"

"Yes," replied Harry promptly. "Elemental Transfiguration is the process where you change one element to another. It is significantly more difficult than transfiguration within the same type of element. Conjuration is an example of elemental transfiguration because it transfigures air into something else. The vanishing spell does the opposite."

"Excellent, you've understood the theory. Now we can move on to Human Transfiguration, which is significantly more complex. The human body is much different from that of, say, a frog. You need to understand the differences between the animals you transfigure and also the challenges posed to human transfiguration. If you go wrong, it could be disastrous, so you are not to try it without me in the initial stages, understood?"

Harry nodded.

"The first step is to find your centre. This won't be difficult for you since you are a natural at Occlumency. When you're done, we'll start with your fingers and slowly proceed from there. Once you know exactly what your animal form is, you'll be able to complete the final transformation."

"Oh, by the way, I have something important to tell you," Sirius said suddenly, interrupting their session. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of how his godson would handle the news, and continued, "Amelia and I were planning to get married this winter. What do you think?"

Harry blinked once in surprise, having not expected this. Once his mind processed what he was told, he smiled genuinely. "That's great news! Congratulations, Sirius. I'm happy for you both."

The older wizard looked relieved that his young charge was not upset by the news. "Thanks, Harry. Besides you, I don't have anyone else on my side of the family except Andromeda and Narcissa, so your approval really means a lot to me. We're planning to outsource all the wedding preparations to a well-known event-organising company in Diagon Alley, but we still haven't decided on the place."

"Why don't you hold it at Black Manor?" Harry suggested. "It'll be easier to pull it off, not to mention will provide a beautiful backdrop. The ceremony can be held outside, while the reception can be held inside, in the Grand Ballroom."

"You know, that's actually a good idea," muttered Sirius, staring into the distance. "I'll ask Amelia. Good job, kiddo. I'll keep you updated on any developments. Now, let's get back to our discussion on human transfiguration."

Three hours later, Harry returned to Ravenclaw Tower, exhausted. When Sirius said the process would be draining, he hadn't been kidding. His godfather had not allowed him to transfigure anything more than his fingernails for today but told him to keep practising and also so look deep within himself to know more about his animal form. The more he knew what he was going to be, the easier it would become.

On the thirty-first of October, the traditional Samhain feast was being served in the Great Hall. Harry was strangely in a good mood after another Animagus class, so he decided to be more interactive for the night. His Housemates were all bemused at first, but no one was complaining. Harry was a goldmine of information and the people all around engaged him in conversation for hours until the feast ended. Once done, the Ravenclaws walked together towards the Grand Staircase and after several minutes, one by one they trickled into the Ravenclaw common room.

Downstairs, on the first floor, the petrified forms of Argus Filch and Mrs Norris were discovered along with the message that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The next few days were filled with confusion and deep speculation about the Chamber of Secrets and what could have caused the petrification of Filch and Mrs Norris. Harry, like the rest, had believed that someone must have cursed them and had written the message on the wall to cause trouble, but had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he was wrong. Something about the Chamber was intimately familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Draco Malfoy had been the most vocal about the incident, saying that the attack and the supposed opening of the Chamber of Secrets was a good thing. The boy also seemed to have gotten into the Slytherin Quidditch Team as a Seeker and his father had bought the entire team new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. Harry wondered how the rest of the Board of Governors let this happen, but there was nothing against donating brooms to the school. In fact, when he spoke to Sirius, Harry was informed that there was actually a tax deduction on any donation to the magical schools of Britain, so it was sure to be a win-win scenario for Lucius Malfoy.

Harry woke up early that Saturday morning and quietly walked outside to the grounds to finish his morning exercises. Since Ravenclaw and Slytherin had been the finalists the previous year in the Quidditch matches, they would be playing the first game of the season today. Harry had trained rigorously with the Ravenclaw team and he had to admit they were pretty good. The mood had been dampened with the news of the new brooms of the Slytherin team, but the captain said that it didn't matter.

"We have faced tough odds before," assured Abigail Turner to the team as they assembled in the locker room. "This is no different. They don't know the advantage we have. We haven't let anyone know of our moves, so that should surprise them. Harry, start your game immediately. If we surprise them early on, maybe they'll lose confidence in their new brooms, and we can use every advantage we can get today."

"Understood," said Harry calmly, as he gripped his broomstick.

The seven members of the team stood at the entrance of the pitch and mounted their brooms, flying into the cloudy sky. Hundreds of people cheered from below and Harry breathed deeply to take care of any existing nervousness. Once reinforcing his mental shields, his blank mask was back in place as he flew high in the sky. Any minute now ...

"Welcome everyone to the first game of the season," shouted Lee Jordan, his voice magically enhanced. "Today we have our resident Eagles playing against the Snakes!"

"On my whistle," shouted Madam Hooch. "Three ... two ... one ..."

She blew the whistle and a mighty roar could be heard as the game began. Harry soared upward but his green eyes were focussed on the game below, not looking for the snitch. Draco Malfoy was behind him, obviously wanting to retaliate if Harry saw the snitch himself.

"And Marcus Flint has control of the Quaffle. Turner tries to take it, but – oh, that was nasty. He dodges a bludger and goes near the goal posts, he – wait – what's that?"

When Harry had a clear line of sight to Flint, he dived sharply, pushing his Nimbus Two Thousand and One to the maximum. Behind him, Draco Malfoy dived too, but Harry wasn't going for the snitch or attempting a Wronski Feint. He was heading directly towards Marcus Flint and with one powerful kick, the Quaffle was released from the older boy's hold. Harry dived and turned, grabbing the Quaffle and quickly passed it to Roger Davies who scored.

"Outstanding!" yelled Lee Jordan. "It looks like Harry Potter is playing as an interfering Seeker! That was one hell of a move! I thought it was a feint but it wasn't. Roger Davies scores and it is ten-zero to Ravenclaw!"

Harry saw a bludger coming right at him so he performed a sloth grip roll to dodge it, but the bludger immediately changed course! He flew higher, just as Jacob Samuels, one of the two beaters of Ravenclaw gave a powerful whack to the bludger towards Adrian Pucey.

"You alright there, Harry?" asked Jacob.

Just as Harry nodded at the other boy, the bludger once again flew towards him. Harry frowned as he dived to the ground to dodge it, trying to focus on the elusive Golden Snitch. Slytherin had already scored twice, bringing the score up to twenty to ten. None of them knew why the bludger was going after Harry alone, but he didn't want to forfeit the game due to an enchantment on the bludger gone bad.

"Get back to the game!" yelled Harry as the beaters came to help him. "We'll never win if you keep shadowing me. I'll be fine!"

The beaters looked concerned, but they decided to follow his instructions. Forty minutes later, the score was one hundred and thirty to fifty in favour of Ravenclaw. The rain was falling heavily now, impairing vision. Harry knew that he had to catch the snitch soon, so he made finding it his top priority. Higher and higher he went and he could hear the bludger behind him. He looped and swooped, zigzagged, spiralled and rolled.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" called out Draco, smirking, as he tried to distract Harry while he searched for the snitch himself.

Suddenly, Harry saw it.

The snitch was glinting from right behind Malfoy's ear. Without waiting for a moment, he pushed and nearly unseated Malfoy from his broom in the process. Just as his fingers closed upon the struggling golden snitch, the bludger came back.

 _WHAM!_


	9. P-P-Parselmouth?

**_Chapter 9_**

 ** _P-P-Parselmouth?_**

Harry opened his eyes and groaned softly. He could feel pain in every part of his body, but his head throbbed horribly. He had never experienced anything like this, and after all the beatings he had received from the Dursleys, that was saying something.

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as she saw him wake up. "Here, drink this; it will make the pain go away."

She waved her wand and the phial of potion carefully came to Harry's mouth; the liquid quickly travelled down his throat. The moment he finished drinking the potion, he sighed in relief as the pain reduced drastically.

"What happened?" murmured Harry, feeling disoriented.

"Cracked skull," replied Madam Pomfrey as she filled another goblet with a blue coloured potion. "I've healed it, but you need to be here for the next two days. A broken skull is a nasty business and has to be taken care of delicately to avoid brain damage. Here, drink this."

Harry grimaced when she tipped the contents of the goblet down his throat. He saw Daphne sitting in the corner, her eyes bloodshot, holding his broomstick.

" _Ahem_ … hi Daphne …"

"How're you feeling?" asked Daphne softly as she rushed towards him. "Your teammates had been here an hour ago, but you were unconscious. They returned the broom to me and said that they'll come back later."

"I'm fine," muttered Harry. "Not sure what was wrong with the bludger, though."

"Someone had tampered with it, without a doubt," Daphne scowled. "I tried to complain, but Dumbledore put it off as a tragic accident."

"That's nothing out of the ordinary," he said wryly.

The next few hours went by with Harry being visited by some of his acquaintances and also the Quidditch team. When it was time for dinner, Madam Pomfrey poured a few drops of nutrient potion down his throat as he was not fit to get up yet.

"This has got to be the most uncomfortable place to sleep in," said Harry quietly as he closed his eyes, feeling quite frustrated.

Daphne simply smiled. "It's only for two days. You can then be back in your room. Is there anything I can help you with? Curfew is in five minutes, so I'll have to go, but if there's something you want ..."

"I'll be fine, Daphne," he said, with a hint of a fond smile on his face. "Don't worry about me."

Daphne smiled too. She leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. "Good night, Harry," she murmured. Brushing his hair lightly with her fingers, she smiled once again and left.

Harry took a few deep breaths. His cheeks were flushed and his pulse was racing. Unable to help himself, he grinned, staring up at the ceiling with wide, happy eyes.

Maybe this accident wasn't so bad after all.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Hours later, Harry winced as he woke up around pitch blackness, his head still throbbing. For a moment, he wondered why he had woken up when he realised that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark. With a yelp, he cast a wandless banishing charm at whomever or whatever was next to him.

" _Lumos_ _!_ "

A ball of light illuminated in his palm, bathing his surroundings with brightness. "What the hell – _Dobby_!"

"Harry Potter came back to school," whispered the elf miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby?"

"I need more proof that something is wrong before I quit school, Dobby," said Harry, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Did your master put you up to this? Why does Lucius Malfoy want me out of the school?"

Dobby gasped when Harry mentioned his master's name, but shook his head in desperation. "Harry Potter _must_ go home! Dobby thought his bludger would be enough –"

" _Your_ bludger?" snarled Harry angrily. "What the hell is wrong with you? That blasted bludger cracked my skull! You better clear off soon, Dobby or I might strangle you!"

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir," said the elf weakly. "Dobby gets them five times a day at home. You must go leave, Harry Potter! Dark deeds are planned at Hogwarts this year. Great danger looms the castle and Harry Potter must not stay here! Not now, when history is to repeat itself, with the Chamber of Secrets open once more."

Dobby's eyes widened as he picked up a newspaper and started hitting himself with it. But Harry vanished the newspaper with a wave of his hand and summoned the elf closer. "You mean to say the Chamber is real?" he asked quietly. "That there really is a monster in the Chamber of Secrets? But why would it target me? I'm not a Muggle-born. I'm the direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor himself!"

"Ask no more of poor Dobby," sobbed the elf. "Harry Potter _must_ go home!"

"When was the Chamber opened the last time?" Harry pushed impatiently. "Who did it then? How is Lucius Malfoy responsible for it this time?"

Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the Hospital Wing. Dobby squeaked in fear and disappeared with a near-silent _pop_. Harry extinguished the light and pretended to go back to sleep when he heard people enter.

"Find Poppy, quickly," urged Dumbledore to his deputy as he levitated the boy to one of the beds. When Madam Pomfrey came to check on her newest patient, the aged headmaster explained what had happened.

"There has been another attack," he told her gravely. "He's been petrified."

Harry turned slightly and opened his eyes minutely, only to see the still, unconscious body of Colin Creevey. He swallowed when he could smell the burnt plastic of the Muggle camera all the way to his bed.

"What could this mean, Albus?" whispered McGonagall in fear.

"It means the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again," declared Dumbledore gravely. His tone was soft, but his eyes burning with rage.

"But Albus ... surely ... _who_?"

"The question is not only _who_ ," muttered Dumbledore, his eyes falling on the sleeping form of Harry Potter. "The question we must also be asking ourselves is _how_ ... and _why_ ..."

Albus Dumbledore could not begin to describe his anger at the attack on the students of Hogwarts. The last time it had happened, he had not been able to do anything, letting the situation get out of hand. He had suspected that Tom Riddle was behind it, but he didn't have proof. Being a Parselmouth was not a crime, and there was no evidence at all to support his theory, so the sixteen-year-old boy had gotten away with it, culminating with the death of that Ravenclaw student and Hagrid being expelled for crimes he didn't commit.

That was when Albus had realised the extent of Tom's cruelty and lack of empathy for anyone but himself. If this had happened last year, he would have immediately suspected Voldemort to be behind it, because the very much weakened Dark Lord had been inside the castle, even if he was on Albus' leash. But this year, he had not detected anything. He had been hoping for a peaceful year as he tried his best to repair the damaged relationship between him and Harry by maybe teaching the young wizard Alchemy, but that had not happened.

He knew Harry hated Muggles but was it possible that he hated Muggle-borns as well? The boy was the only Parselmouth in the school – the only one in the country – so there couldn't be anyone else who might have done it. He knew that it wasn't Voldemort who was behind these attacks since his sources said that the Dark Lord was currently far away, deep in the Albanian forests, so that meant someone _else_ was responsible. But how had Harry found the Chamber so quickly? It had taken Tom years to find it. _But wait_ ... was the boy a Parselmouth at all? Was he jumping to conclusions because of the Horcrux in Harry's scar?

He would have to confirm his theory and maybe look out for any other sources that might have enabled the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Albus didn't want to jump to conclusions. He still felt guilty for causing Harry's pain, even if he felt it was necessary at the time, so he wouldn't suspect the boy until he had proof.

Now, how would he find out if Harry really was a Parselmouth?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Nothing," sighed Daphne as she plopped herself on the couch beside Harry in the Room of Requirement. "There is absolutely no information about the opening of the Chamber of Secrets in the library."

Harry's eye twitched in annoyance.

"What sort of creature is capable of petrifying its victims, anyway?" she asked curiously.

"The only thing I can think of that causes petrification such as this is the gaze of a Gorgon, but they are very limited in number and don't exist in Britain. Besides, I'm sure that wards would have picked it up and Dumbledore would've surely noticed it. No, this is probably the work of a wizard. There is absolutely no proof that a magical creature was involved in any way."

The two spent the next couple of hours together in animated conversation while they finished their homework. Finally, after dinner, Harry exhaled heavily. "I have detention with Lockhart tonight, Daphne. I'll see you tomorrow."

"What did you do this time?" asked Daphne in surprise.

Harry smirked faintly. "Fred, George and I decided to play a little prank on him in class. When he asked us to imitate werewolves, Fred and George cast glamour charms while I used a Confundus. Needless to say, for just a couple of seconds it worked and he pissed himself in fear. Naturally, we got detention. According to Sirius, the detention is more than worth pranking that idiot. I swear, I wonder if he's a wizard at all! I haven't seen him perform magic except to beautify himself!"

"It's just for tonight, isn't it?"

"No," he replied, sounding annoyed. "It's a total of seven days. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Daphne."

After Harry left the Room of Requirement and was heading towards the Defence classroom, he heard a voice; a voice so chilling that he nearly tripped.

 _"Come ... come to me ... let me rip you ... let me tear you ... let me kill you ... so hungry ... must kill this time ..."_

Harry's heart was beating furiously. What the hell was that? Pressing his ear to the wall, he began following the voice, his strides long and quick.

 _"I smell blood ... KILL!"_

Harry broke into a run, turning a corner only to gasp in surprise. A second-year student, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was lying on the ground, petrified, while the clearly petrified form of Nearly Headless Nick floated in front of him. What was going on? There was another attack? He had to inform a teacher! He needed to get Professor Flitwick at once.

As he turned a corner, he crashed headfirst into a bunch of second-year Hufflepuffs.

"Oh, sorry," apologised Hannah, as she got to her feet. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Just then, they heard a scream of panic. They turned to find Wayne Hopkins and Ernie Macmillan looking at the petrified forms of Justin and Nick.

"T-There has been another a-attack," squeaked Hopkins, looking terrified. "We need to get the teachers."

When they turned around and hurried towards Professor Sprout's office, Harry's heart began to race. What was that voice? Whatever he had followed had led him to the petrified victims. Then Dobby was right; there _was_ a Chamber of Secrets. And there was probably a monster inside which was hunting the Muggle-borns. He quietly made his way to the Defence classroom for his detention, lost in thought. How was he able to understand the monster? Did the creature speak English?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Two weeks before the winter holidays, a sheet of parchment appeared on the notice board outside the Great Hall. Harry casually walked towards it, not bothering to talk to anyone. Suddenly, he had been the scrutiny of intense speculation because somehow, news had gotten out that he was the one to find Justin in the corridor and had been attempting to flee the scene when he ran into the Hufflepuffs. Harry didn't bother dignifying such stupidity with a response. Some of the students were looking at him with terrified expressions on their faces, but the others were quite indifferent. Harry must have been the first person to stumble onto the scene, end of story.

The notice informed them of a Duelling Club that was to be held that very evening. Harry was quite surprised and excited by that. He knew that Professor Flitwick was an International Duelling Champion, having won the adult championship several times. Being the winner of the Under-13 tournament, he was quite eager to learn from someone who had taken part in the circuit himself. There was also the fact that he greatly admired Professor Flitwick. So that evening, he found himself joining more than half the school in the Great Hall, where they stood surrounding the duelling podium that had been erected in the middle.

"Where's Flitwick?" asked Daphne in confusion. That's when she saw someone she didn't want to see at a duelling arena.

"Oh, Mother Magic, have mercy," muttered Harry. "I can't believe Dumbledore let this fool teach us duelling. This idiot can't even hold his wand right, so how is he going to teach us battle spells?"

"Maybe he knows something about duelling?" suggested Neville, sounding hopeful.

"Trust me, Neville, that buffoon can't duel to save his life," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. Several girls around them who had heard him gasped in outrage. He mentally snorted. They'll know the truth one day. If he hadn't been so busy studying for his fourth-year exams which were just two weeks away, he might have actually done something to get rid of the man.

"Do you think we can get out?" asked Blaise Zabini quietly.

"I doubt it," answered Daphne.

Harry nodded as he looked at the doors of the Hall which were closed. "She's right. We'd draw too much attention to ourselves and the last thing I need is to piss off Snape before my O.W.L.s. What was Snape thinking coming here anyway? I thought he hated students and teaching in general, so shouldn't that make him not agree to be Lockhart's _assistant_?"

Just as the words left his mouth, his attention was diverted. Snape fired a disarming spell at Lockhart, sending the other man flying away as he hit the end of the podium. Theo choked as he bit back a laugh, but Tracy began laughing outright.

"That was not a graceful landing," smiled Neville.

"He's probably embarrassed," said Susan, grinning widely. "Oh, look! He's trying to save face! I wonder why he didn't use a shield charm when he saw the incoming spell."

"That's probably because he doesn't know how to cast a shield," Daphne smirked.

"The Disarming Spell; an excellent demonstration, Professor Snape," Lockheart boomed, giving the audience a fancy yet pained smile. "Let's pair everyone off, shall we? Let them experience how it is to be guided by Gilderoy Lockheart himself! And of course, you, Professor Snape ..."

A pair of dark eyes narrowed dangerously as he spotted the bored looking Potter scion.

"I think we need another demonstration before we pair them up," said Snape, smiling nastily at Harry, "just to give the students a better picture of what a _real_ mock-duel looks like. How about we choose Potter and Vaisley?"

"Yes, yes, that's a wonderful idea!" said Lockhart, beaming. "Mr Potter, Miss Vaisley, get up here!"

"Harry, be careful," muttered Blaise. "Henrietta Vaisley is known for her skills in Offensive Magic. She's also a cheat, so keep an eye out."

"Thanks, Blaise," acknowledged Harry quietly as he walked up to the podium. He seemed very calm and completely unperturbed.

"So, I finally get to duel the famous Harry Potter," Vaisley spat snidely. "Under-13 Duelling Champion, isn't it? Let's see what you've got!"

"Now, Harry," instructed Lockhart. "When she points her wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops – my wand is a little overexcited –"

Harry's face was expressionless as always, but mentally, he snorted in disbelief. He couldn't believe people actually fell for this man's lies! What was happening to the world? Was it so easy to fool people? Snape moved closer to Vaisley, bent down, and whispered something in her ear. Vaisley smirked too, but Harry didn't react. Really, they were such drama queens, the both of them. They were acting as though they had some secret weapon up their sleeves.

"Duellists, face each other," said Lockhart. Harry and Henrietta faced each other and merely inclined their heads, not willing to actually bow to the other.

"Three – two – one – go!" he shouted.

Harry flicked his wand as a jet of scarlet light headed towards Henrietta. The Slytherin girl shielded against the stunner and sent a bone-breaking curse of her own. Harry quickly dodged the spell and upped his attacks. Jets of multi-coloured light were being fired from both wands, but many could see a slight smirk on Harry's face.

"He's toying with her," announced Daphne, with a smirk of her own.

"I've read about that! It's considered one of the best strategies for duelling," exclaimed Susan. "You tend to frustrate your opponent by not actively seeking to finish them off. Such people make mistakes and you use that vulnerability against them."

"Ingenious," said Blaise softly.

"It won't work with everyone," Theo disagreed.

"Maybe not," murmured Daphne. "But Vaisley clearly has an ego, and when you're up against such people, frustrating them could help you win. And that's exactly what Harry is doing."

"I said disarm only!" shouted Lockhart apprehensively as he dived out of the way of a blasting curse. Henrietta snarled in anger as she cast another bone-breaking curse, only for Harry to grab the curse at the tip of his wand and reflect it back at the caster. This technique required a lot of skill, not to mention power, but Sirius had taught Harry well.

The flaw of that technique was that it would only work if the amount of magic used to reflect the spell by the second duellist was greater than the amount of magic used to cast the said spell by the first duellist. This effect was something which all Arithmancy students learnt in class to mathematically calculate the amount of magic required by duellists on either side and was a favourite question in the O.W.L. theatrical exam. Very few wizards could use this technique because it was quite hard to practically implement it. One had to be very quick at sensing magic and at mental mathematics for it to work.

Therefore, nobody expected a twelve-year-old wizard, however talented, to use it.

Henrietta Vaisley was not expecting that move. Due to the force of the magic reflected at her, she was blasted back the moment the curse struck her leg, shattering it painfully; she screamed. Harry's face was still expressionless, but Severus Snape could see the smug satisfaction in the boy's eyes.

The young Ravenclaw smirked at her, inclined his head to indicate that the duel had come to an end, and turned to join the audience, unaware of the hate being directed at him from the fallen Slytherin.

 _I will show that upstart kid his place_ , thought Vaisley furiously. She raised her wand and silently cast, ' _Serpensotia_!'

Before Harry could even comprehend what was going on, he felt something slam into him. His eyes widened when he saw three king cobras coiling around his body, positioned to strike. The students in the Hall, who had until then been cheering for him, became uncharacteristically still and silent, not breathing a word. There was thick panic in the air.

"How's that for a change, Potter?" screamed Vaisley in uncontrollable fury, unable to handle the humiliating defeat. "Let's see what a duelling champion can do now!"

With that, she cast a banishing charm at him. Harry had been completely still the whole time, having been immobilised by the three very poisonous snakes. Mentally, he was terrified, so he couldn't dodge the banishing charm. He fell on his butt, the three snakes hissing in pain and displeasure and just when they were about to bite him, he acted.

Harry didn't know what made him do it, but it was something inherent in him, something natural, so he said in a commanding voice.

" _Stop! Do not bite me. Let go!_ "

Much to Harry's shock, the three snakes hissed again and replied, " _Yes, speaker_." They slithered away and were promptly vanished by Professor Snape, who had a shocked look on his face too.

Harry himself was frozen. What the hell was going on? How was he a Parselmouth? That skill was really rare and there was no one in Magical Britain who had that ability anymore. Sure, there were Parselmouths in the past, the most prominent of them being in the Slytherin family, but they had all died out, hadn't they? Harry didn't know much about Parseltongue except that it was quite feared in Magical Europe, especially Britain, but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that he was a Parselmouth himself!

His eyes widened when he saw that everyone was staring at him in shock and fear. Oh, Merlin; the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. This was not good; not good at all.

And the worst part was that they had every right to suspect him. He didn't have a single Muggle-born in his group of friends. While he was cordial with several Muggle-borns like he was with the rest of the school, since he didn't really talk to people much in the first place, it was never a priority to befriend them. He had never labelled his schoolmates based on their blood-status, so it never struck him until now. All his 'friends' he usually hung out with his age were purebloods. He knew that he was not related to Salazar Slytherin, but the Slytherins were hardly the only Parselmouths in the world.

What was worrying was the fact that he had discovered this ability in front of half the school and there was no way to prevent it from being leaked out.

This was bad ... really bad.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"He's a Parselmouth, Albus," said Severus Snape quietly as he sat down on the chair in front of the headmaster's desk.

Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat. Oh, how he wished he was wrong, but he doubted there was any other theory that would fit. Was it really Harry who had opened the Chamber? It seemed more and more likely as time went on.

"But – but surely not!" cried Professor McGonagall, spluttering in disbelief. "He's a Potter! He can't be a Parselmouth!"

"I saw it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears," Snape replied, his tone bland as always. "Hundreds of students saw it as well. Miss Vaisley, though she lost her temper, performed her role admirably, but somehow, I didn't believe you when confided in me, Albus."

"You mean this was _planned_?" asked McGonagall, aghast. "Albus, how could you? Is that why Miss Vaisley was only suspended for a week and not expelled?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I had suspected that young Harry was a Parselmouth, but I had no way to prove it," he said quietly. "That's why I granted Gilderoy permission to have this little Duelling Club. I requested Severus orchestrate an event that would force Harry to reveal his talent if he's put in a tight spot. Being strangled and nearly bitten by three very poisonous snakes will offer a great incentive to protect yourself, which is exactly what happened. People who are scared will commit mistakes, which I confess, has happened to me as well. Smart, Harry may be, but he's still a twelve-year-old boy. He would never have seen this coming. Also, I've noticed a pattern in him. Ever since he won the Under-13 International Duelling Championship this past summer, he has become too sure of himself. Being accepted into the accelerated program and his exceptionally high grades have made him arrogant, and such people tend to overlook things. I simply took advantage of it."

"B-But why did you want to find out if he's a Parselmouth in the first place?"

Snape's mind was ticking as he put the pieces together. "Do you think he's responsible for the opening of the Chamber of Secrets?"

"That is a possibility I cannot discount," answered Dumbledore, as he sighed heavily. He closed his eyes, feeling the worst he had felt in eleven years. Where had he gone wrong with the boy? Was it all only because of the Dursleys? Was placing Harry there such a terrible mistake that he couldn't fix? Would the boy have turned out better if he had been allowed to grow up with Sirius and Amelia? He had always said that being smarter than most men made his mistakes that much larger, and this was yet another reminder of the burden that was thrust upon him. He had seen too much death and destruction in his life. What he wouldn't do to finally see lasting peace …

"No!" said McGonagall flatly. "I refuse to believe it. The son of James and Lily Potter attacking Muggle-borns! No, this can't be true, Albus!"

"It's probably closer to the truth than you realise, Minerva," said Dumbledore, sounding old and weary. "The boy hates Muggles. In fact, I have never heard him utter the word 'Muggle' without using the word 'filthy' as a prefix. From what I've observed, hating Muggles and Muggle-borns go hand in hand."

McGonagall was shocked and not a little disappointed. Snape's face was impassive, but his eyes had widened marginally. This was _not_ what he had expected from James Potter's son. Mentally, he was cackling with glee. He wondered how his old nemesis would feel about this! Potter's own son hating Muggles and Muggle-borns; Potter's own son turning into a murderer, deciding to kill innocents … Oh, delicious irony! Perhaps he could celebrate this day with a bottle of vintage wine as well. What a perfect way to toast to James Potter's misery, even if the bloody bastard was dead. No matter; there was still Sirius Black's misery he could watch.

"We need to keep a very close eye on him," murmured Dumbledore, after a while. "Tell the rest of the staff, the Head Boy, Head Girl and all the prefects to keep an eye on his activities. Perhaps it's a blessing that the holidays are approaching soon. It will give me some time to think and also re-check the castle's protective enchantments."

"What?" snarled Snape. "Are we going to let him get away with this? I say we call the Aurors immediately and have the boy thrown in Azkaban! He should be expelled for this!"

"We don't have any proof to back up our claims, Severus," said Dumbledore, pointedly staring at the man under his half-moon spectacles. "Being a Parselmouth isn't illegal and I know for a fact that the Potters aren't related to Slytherin. Besides, I don't want to give up on him; he can still be redeemed. I will talk to him soon to find out the truth."

"Then how is he a Parselmouth?" asked Snape testily.

"Of that, I'm not sure," Dumbledore replied, staring at the ceiling and stroking his beard. He wasn't going to be sharing his theory about the Horcrux in the boy's scar with anyone. How he wished he had more of Harry's blood! It would have given him more time to study the soul piece using the instrument he had seen in the Department of Mysteries which could detect souls, but it was not possible to extract blood without detection anymore. Blood was highly dangerous in the wrong hands and nearly every magical family, old or young, took care to ensure that their blood was safeguarded by performing magical rituals.

Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat as Fawkes trilled softly.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The next two weeks were quite unbearable for Harry. The entire school, including the teachers, was looking at him with terrified expressions on their faces. Indeed, many actually did their best to avoid looking at him, as though he would attack them in an instant. Snape had been more horrible than ever in Potions class and it took all of Harry's willpower to remain calm instead of outright killing the man. Professors McGonagall and Sprout had become quite cold towards him and acted as though he didn't exist, though Harry could see the sadness and betrayal in McGonagall's eyes during class.

Slytherin House seemed to be divided on the whole issue. On one hand, Harry was a Parselmouth, a talent which was extremely rare, especially in the western part of the world. It was something that Salazar Slytherin was famous for, so they were in awe of Harry's ability, but on the other hand, the last Parselmouth was the Dark Lord himself. And he had been absolutely terrifying.

Some people outright refused to ostracise Harry like that. Professor Flitwick went out of his way in treating Harry normally and would frown heavily when he caught sight of people running away from the boy. The same was the case with Professors Babbling and Vector, who considered Harry one of their favourites. Others like Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Tracy Davis, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Fred and George Weasley were also in open support of him, but they were too less in number for it to matter. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were the worst. Harry being at the scene of Justin's petrification really did not help any. A few brave older years were openly scowling at him and the whispers behind his back had only gotten worse. No one had dared to say anything to him in fear of them being petrified, but Harry had never experienced something this bad.

Daphne, of course, didn't care about it at all. Harry was her fiancé and best friend, so she had decided to stick to him no matter what. She had taken to accompanying Harry to the kitchens every day for food since everyone was so uncomfortable with him sitting in the Great Hall. But Harry was trying not to let it get to him. He had exams approaching, after which he had to focus on Sirius and Amelia's wedding, so he did his best to concentrate on his studies.

"Why don't you swear a magical oath in front of those morons?" asked Daphne as she bit into her toast the day they were heading back home. "It'll at least stop all the speculation."

"And risk losing my magic? I'm not an idiot to try it, Daph. If I say I'm not Slytherin's heir, it would still make me seem guilty because of my Parseltongue skill. If I say I didn't open the Chamber of Secrets, I might risk losing my magic in the future if I actually _do_ find the Chamber. Magical Oaths are very tricky, from what Grandfather Alfred told me. I will not risk my life because the people here are a bunch of narrow-minded bigoted fools."

"True," muttered Daphne, frowning. She remained silent as they continued eating, lost in thought. There had to be some way to stop this! Ron Weasley had been spouting all sorts of nonsense lately about how Harry was the new Dark Lord and that he would kill everyone at school. It was quite frankly disgusting that none of the teachers was doing anything about it. While a couple of them tried to help, it didn't make a difference. One couldn't really make people talk to you when the entire school was ignoring the said student.

"Come on," said Harry, bringing her back to the present. "I can't wait to get out of here."

With a parting wave to the ever-cheerful house-elves, they exited the kitchens, hand in hand, and soon walked out of the castle. It was time to go back home for the winter holidays.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"And then, everyone thinks I'm the one who opened the bloody Chamber!" said Harry heatedly. "What's wrong with these people? Can't they see that I am a half-blood myself? My own mother was a Muggle-born, so why would I want to attack them? Wouldn't that make me a hypocrite?"

Sirius looked at him, his grey eyes full of concern; the eyes that had still not fully lost the haunted look Azkaban had given him. He sat down next to Harry and pulled the boy into a tight hug. Harry stiffened at first, but after several seconds, slowly melted into the embrace.

"I'm so sorry that you were forced into this situation, Harry," muttered Sirius, slowly rubbing his back, pressing a tender kiss on the forehead. "But you have no proof to say that you didn't do it either. No one is directly accusing you and there is no way anyone can arrest you, so all they can do is whisper. Amelia tried to get involved, but apparently Dumbledore had gotten Fudge to sign an order to say that he would take care of it and not push it forward to the D.M.L.E. Normally, others wouldn't be able to do something like this, but Dumbledore is also the Chief Warlock, the other most powerful post in the country. People always seem to forget the office he holds, thinking that being Hogwarts headmaster is the one which gives him most power, but it's not true. It is his Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump positions that give him true power. What Dumbledore wants, Dumbledore gets."

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It had been a long two weeks and he had exams to write the next day at the Ministry.

"Do you want me to pull you from Hogwarts?" asked Sirius. "I can hire tutors, if you'd like, or maybe send you abroad."

"It's not that bad, Sirius," said Harry, with a small smile, his green eyes strangely soft with affection as he looked at his godfather. "It's the way they're treating me that's annoying, nothing more. I'm not going to let it affect my education. I'll be taking my O.W.L.s in June and I can't let these morons distract me."

Before the older wizard could respond, they were soon joined by his fiancée who had just Flooed in from the Ministry.

"Hey, you two," Amelia greeted them as she entered the drawing room of Black Manor, looking tired. Without preamble, she continued, "I was right the first time, Harry. There is no mention of the Chamber of Secrets being opened anywhere in the Ministry archives. If there is a story behind it, no one is talking. Even if there were recorded documents, they were probably erased or destroyed. I don't even know _if_ it happened, so we can forget about finding out _when_."

Sirius frowned. "You said you could hear the voice of the creature?"

"Yes," answered Harry. "I couldn't hear it properly, but it was definitely speaking. I could understand it. The creatures that can speak English are Acromantulas, Sphinxes, Centaurs and Manticores, and none of them cause petrification."

"What you heard might be Parseltongue," observed Amelia. "After all, to you, it's the same as hearing it in English, right? Salazar's pet being a snake is quite fitting."

"Maybe … But what sort of creature can do this? The only thing I can think of is –"

"– a basilisk," finished Sirius. "You're right. But the stare of a basilisk kills, it does not petrify. Besides, the thought of a thirty-foot long snake is horrifying to even think about!"

"There is no way it's a basilisk, Sirius," countered Harry, shaking his head. "A basilisk is too large to be the creature we're looking for and how do you expect it to move around the school without being detected? Something that big cannot hide! That's one thing we can safely remove from our list of suspects."

"And a good thing too," said Amelia darkly. "A basilisk will cause an international red alert because it can be used for mass destruction. A team from the I.C.W. and from the resident magical government will be sent immediately to kill the creature."

"Why is that?" asked Sirius, confused. "After all, there are several Nundus in the wild, not to mention Dragons and Acromantulas. They're all extremely dangerous creatures, so why are basilisks alone marked as such?"

"Because unlike dragons and nundus, basilisks can be fully controlled by a Parselmouth," replied Amelia. "This is actually classified information which I gained access to when I was appointed the Head of the D.M.L.E. Can you imagine the damage someone like Voldemort could do if he gained access to a basilisk? He could wreak havoc on scales we can't even imagine!"

"True," Harry murmured, tilting his head to the side. There was something nagging him at the back of his mind, but he couldn't figure out what. There was something he was missing; the answer felt so close and yet so far away! Unfortunately, the foreign information in his mind seemed to be blocked to him by a barrier. There were small cracks in the barrier, from what he could describe, but most of it was on the other side, not accessible to him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts; he couldn't dwell on it now. He had other important things to do.

"I'm going to bed," he said, getting to his feet. "I have to go to the Ministry tomorrow for the fourth year exams. Good night."

"Sweet dreams," said Sirius as he looked at Harry walk upstairs to his bedroom at Black Manor. He turned to Amelia. "They cannot legally touch him, can they?"

"No," Amelia said, shaking her head. "He's protected by the law. Being a Parselmouth isn't illegal, though I'm quite surprised he is one. Is he related to the Slytherin family?"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "The Potters are actually the descendants of Gryffindor," he clarified with a smile. "Trust me, any descendants of Slytherin would never intermarry with them. Besides, it is a misconception that only Slytherins were Parselmouths. My ancestor, Virgo Black, who lived in the thirteenth century, was a Parselmouth, though there has never been another Parselmouth in the Black family since. Harry and I read a book written by him which was in the library here, at the manor. Harry wanted to know why he spoke to the snakes that attacked him and apparently, Parselmouths have some sort of connection to snakes. He couldn't help himself. He did it subconsciously when the snakes were about to bite him."

"Interesting," muttered Amelia.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I know that some people might think that Harry is a hypocrite for calling others bigots when he is one himself. Yes, Harry is flawed. He hates Muggles. The story is structured that way, which is why it is named 'Saviour of Magic'. If you want Harry to like Muggles, it's not going to happen._**

 ** _Thank you all for your reviews!_**


	10. A union and an attack

**_Chapter 10_**

 ** _A Union and an Attack_**

 ** _December 2002_**

Over the next three days, Harry spent most of his time at the Ministry of Magic to take his fourth-year exams. Madam Marchbanks was there as usual and she was ever so pleased when Harry performed admirably again.

"Very good, Mr Potter," she smiled. "You'll get your results within a few days. I expect you to perform well in your O.W.L.s, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," nodded Harry. "I won't let you down."

"I'm sure you won't," chuckled Madam Marchbanks. "Enjoy the rest of your holidays."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

It was the twenty-fourth of December and Black Manor in Scotland was a beehive of activity. Many influential people of the British magical world were present for the wedding as it was an important event. The Lord of the Black family was getting married to the daughter of the Bones family who was also the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The marriage would most definitely influence the balance of power and politics in the Ministry and Wizengamot.

The Floo in the Entrance Hall burst into emerald green flames and Cornelius Fudge stepped through. When he did, he grimaced at the sight of Harry Potter standing there with a smile on his face. The expression on the Minister's face was sour, and it became immediately clear why he wasn't jovial like the last time he met the Boy-Who-Lived. News of the Potter scion being a Parselmouth had travelled far and wide.

"Minister Fudge," Harry greeted him, bowing slightly in respect.

The young wizard was wearing a green shirt, black trousers, a silver tie and vest and his form-fitting robes were black with silver highlights, all made of Acromantula silk. Even though he was twelve, due to wizards maturing faster than Muggles, Harry looked closer to fifteen years of age. Tall, muscular and calm, he radiated confidence.

"Welcome to Black Manor. I'm very pleased that you have graced your presence on such an auspicious occasion. Please, this way. Miss Greengrass will accompany you to your seat."

Daphne was wearing a beautiful emerald green dress with silver accents, which perfectly matched the colours worn by her fiancé, looking very beautiful. Like Harry, she too was calm and had a smile painted on her face. Her movements looked effortlessly graceful, but one could not ignore the raw magical power growing within her, shining brightly through her deep-blue eyes. Standing next to each other, Harry and Daphne looked very regal together and attracted quite a bit of attention.

"This way, Minister," she said with a smile, as the rest of the Minister's office followed them.

Many of the guests were in awe of the decorations and splendour the grounds and manor had to offer. The entire place had been decorated with red roses, with tiny drops of water on them. While there was light snow, it didn't fall on them, creating a very beautiful scene of snow falling from the sky. The food served as appetizers along with tea was simply delicious. Wide area warming charms were applied so that the guests would not feel the chill of the winter evening.

When it was fifteen minutes to seven, Sirius Black adjusted his robes one final time, took a deep breath, grabbed the goblet containing a mild Calming Draught and drowned it. Once his expression relaxed, he nodded to himself and walked out of the room, down the stairs and into the gardens where the ceremony was to be conducted. As he walked up to the elevated podium, people clapped. Sirius too was impeccably dressed, with a white silk shirt, black trousers, silver vest and tie and black robes with silver accents, all made of very expensive Acromantula silk, looking every inch the powerful aristocrat that he was. Amelia was being escorted by her brother, Susan's father, the only other remaining member of her family, as the rest had been killed by Voldemort long ago. She was dressed in a beautiful white dress, with silver accents on it. She didn't look like the stern Director of British Magical Law Enforcement everyone was used to; instead, she looked like a woman who was happy that she was getting married to the love of her life.

Amelia came to stand in front of Sirius. The ceremony, while not elaborate, went well. After a few simple magical rituals that were required to be performed at every wizarding marriage, the druid presiding over the ceremony lifted her wand above them. There was a flash of light, and Amelia and Sirius's hands glowed where they were holding each other, signifying that they had been blessed by Mother Magic. Several twinkling golden stars burst from the witch's wand over the newly married couple. Harry nodded to a house-elf that was discreetly standing in the corner, beaming at the union of her masters. Just when the audience started applauding, magical fireworks exploded in the air in various colours.

Once the show was over, Harry, Daphne and the others led the guests inside the manor to the enlarged formal dining room. There were multiple round tables, with beautiful lanterns and candles floating in the air for enhanced effects. After a truly delicious meal, the guests were ushered to the Grand Ballroom where people gave their gifts to the newly married couple and started dancing and socialising.

"Is it just me or are people genuinely avoiding Harry this evening?" asked Elizabeth Greengrass as she danced with her husband. She had just noticed a group of witches and wizards move away hastily when they saw Harry coming anywhere close to where they were standing.

"I know," Cyrus said through gritted teeth. "I feel like punching them in the face! He's just a twelve-year-old boy. Who cares if he's a Parselmouth? I certainly don't!"

"Daphne told me that he's facing similar problems at school," whispered Elizabeth. "Even some of the teachers do it. I can't believe adults are targeting a mere child, just because they're scared!"

"What can we do?"

"Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do. He's not being attacked or bullied in the traditional sense – though I would disagree with that – so complaining to the teachers is out. But this is just as bad. They're acting as though he is a Nundu about to go on a rampage at any second! We can't force people to talk to him and there lies the problem. He is painfully shy in talking to strangers as it is and people do _this_!"

Cyrus hugged her closer, his eyes filled with concern as he saw Harry slowly walk back to Daphne. From the distance, he could see the young wizard's shoulders droop slightly, but it was only for a moment before he was walking with his back straight, his strides confident and graceful. Cyrus knew that it was a mask, of course. He was a keen observer; he knew that Harry was wearing a mask from the day he had met the boy. That's why he had been careful in dealing with him, but Harry managed to melt the ice between them over time. He genuinely cared for the boy and he knew that this would affect him psychologically. Smart and mature he may be, but Harry was still a twelve-year-old; an _abused_ twelve-year-old, who found it difficult to understand his own emotions.

"Maybe we should ask him to stay with us for the rest of the holidays," Cyrus murmured. "With Sirius and Amelia leaving the country tomorrow, it's better if he stays with us and not all alone in a large castle."

"I agree," said Elizabeth.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry was unusually quiet when the last of the guests had left. He had tried to lead them to the Floo, but after the way Minister Fudge, Rufus Scrimgeour and Augusta Longbottom had acted, he desisted. He tried to ignore it, but he could actually feel an ache in his chest at the way people were treating him. He wondered why it felt this bad. After all, he had lived with the Dursleys for years and had to listen to them constantly belittle him. The Muggles in the neighbourhood and at primary school had always ignored him or made snide remarks about his clothes or parents, but somehow this felt different. In his heart, he knew why.

It felt different because this was his _home_.

The magical world was where he belonged and with the people here treating him like this really hurt. Sirius had explained to him why Parselmouths were as feared in Europe as they were; there had been dark wizards in the past who had exploited the magical language, causing unending chaos. Being quite limited in number, especially in the western world, there had been very few who had the power to stop them as Parselmagic was quite different from conventional magic. Herpo, the foul, was a name which was remembered even after thousands of years because the after-effects of his transgressions and results of experiments where he carelessly broke the sacred laws of magic could be felt to _this day_.

Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort were other well-known Parselmouths and both of them hadn't helped matters any in trying to improve the reputation of Parseltongue in Europe. The common witches and wizards today were honestly terrified of Parselmagic, thus as an extension, Parselmouths, because in the past, entire villages had been cursed by dark witches and wizards, bringing unending agony to the residents.

Sirius had warned Harry to expect backlash and had promised his godson that he would do his best and stand by him, but Harry had still not expected adults outside the school to behave like this just because of their fear of everything Parseltongue. The reason why he felt so bad was that he had been given a taste of what it would feel like to be accepted and appreciated by everyone and for it to change in an instant was something he had never expected. He did realise something though; fame was fickle. Even though he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the public would just as easily turn against him as they flocked to him. It was a lesson to him, but he had learnt it the hard way.

He was quite surprised by Elizabeth Greengrass' offer for him to stay with them for the rest of the holidays. He refused, though. From past experience, he knew it was dangerous for him to stay with someone when his emotions were all over the place and he had to get himself back under control to suppress them and for that, he needed to be alone. He had explained it as best as he could, but Cyrus and Elizabeth finally ensured his cooperation in coming to their manor every day for lunch and dinner so that they could keep an eye on him. He agreed.

Harry hardly spent a wink that night as he sat on the carpet in his bedroom at Potter Castle, meditating.

His face was expressionless, but from the glow of the fireplace, tears could be seen rolling down his cheeks.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Two days later, Harry was surprised to find Daphne in the family drawing room of the castle after he felt the wards inform him of her presence, just as he came inside after his morning run.

"Hey, Daphne," Harry greeted her, panting and sweaty. "What are you doing here?"

Daphne simply raised an eyebrow. "Do I need a reason to come here?"

"Of course not," he said quickly. "You don't usually wake up this early during the holidays, so I was curious."

"I couldn't sleep," shrugged Daphne. "Besides, I have something to give you for Yule and I wanted to do it in person."

She removed a thick leather book from within her bag, looking strangely nervous. "I hope you like it," she whispered hesitantly. "Go on, open it."

Harry muttered his thanks as he carefully accepted the book from her. His eyes widened in surprise when he opened it. On the front page was a photograph of James and Lily Potter, smiling and waving at him, with baby Harry placed carefully in between them. He turned the pages and saw that they were filled with many pictures of his parents, some of his grandparents, and a few more of him as a baby. He swallowed heavily as his emotions got the best of him. He closed the book and moved towards his fiancée and pulled her into a silent hug.

Daphne was shocked because this was the first time she had seen Harry initiate any sort of physical contact at all. He never hugged anyone willingly, _ever!_ In fact, he did his best to avoid physical contact of any kind, and to think the same boy had just initiated a hug was astounding!

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "Thank you so much. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate this."

"Anything for you, Harry," she whispered in his ear. She felt his grip around her waist grow tighter, bringing her closer to his body. Daphne smiled as she looked at his face. She could see the various emotions swirling in those beautiful emerald green eyes; happiness, sadness, confusion, possessiveness and – something else; something she had never seen in his eyes before. Her heart began beating faster. She slowly cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward. Anticipation was building in the air, and each was breathing warmly in the other's face. They closed their eyes, just as their lips met.

The kiss didn't last long. Their lips brushed against each other a few times and as Daphne pulled back, she could see that Harry was in a state of shock. She looked at him, wondering what was going on in that big brain of his. She was worried if she had pushed him too quickly. After all, it was only now that he had initiated a hug. But before she could say anything more, Harry grinned and pressed his forehead against hers. His fingers intertwined with hers and the two gazed into the other's eyes, soaking up the comfortable silence in the room. Harry nuzzled his face against hers and pressed his lips along the side of her face affectionately, and before long, he and Daphne were kissing once more.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry spent the rest of the holidays moving from Potter Castle to Greengrass Manor. His bond with Daphne had deepened since that day they had kissed, so he didn't want to be away from her. He also spent a lot of time with the ghost of Alfred Potter who was teaching him Potions, Runes and Arithmancy again. He devoured them, wanting to prove to everyone that he was the best when it came to their O.W.L. results. He was quite busy and was actually enjoying himself, so it was with a heavy heart that he returned to Hogwarts at the end of the holidays. He really did not want to leave the warm confines of Potter Castle. The place truly was his home.

Things at Hogwarts were the same as they had been before the holidays. Harry didn't bother with it all, though. He spent increasingly more time in the Room of Requirement as he practised against the duelling dummies and studied for his upcoming exams. His spells were getting more powerful and cleaner the more he practised. The Quidditch season also continued as Harry scored another victory for Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff. Harry also observed that he was being followed by the teachers or prefects whenever he was in the public eye, so he made it a point to keep his Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map on him at all times.

In mid-January, Harry received the shock of his life. He and Daphne were once again in the Room of Requirement, studying when he got a mirror call. He wondered why Sirius was calling him again when he had just met the man the previous day for their usual Animagus training at the Shrieking Shack. When he answered it, it showed the excited face of Sirius and Amelia.

"Harry, you'll never guess the good news!" said Sirius happily.

"You licked yourself in your Animagus form again," said Harry, with a small smile. Daphne choked as she tried not to burst out laughing.

"NO! Yes! No!" cried Sirius, his eyes wide, trying to amuse his godson.

Amelia laughed as she faced the mirror again. "That's nothing new, Harry, but we called to say that I'm pregnant!"

"Really?" exclaimed Harry. "That's great! When's the baby due?"

"We just found out, so it should be in early to mid-September," Amelia replied with a smile. "You're the first person we called."

"Congratulations," Daphne told the couple as she came to sit on the arm of Harry's chair. "Let us know if there is anything we can do."

"Will do," said Sirius, beaming at them.

Once the mirror deactivated, Harry and Daphne looked at each other. "She's pregnant," he muttered. "Wow!"

"This is so exciting! I've never actually seen a newborn baby before. Well, there was Astoria, but she doesn't count. I was only two years old when my sister was born."

"You don't remember anything?" asked Harry, bewildered. Due to the effects of Occlumency, he actually did remember, in excruciating detail, his early days at the Dursleys when he was a two-year-old boy.

Daphne huffed. "Of course I do," she said loftily. "I remember that Astoria had always been just that annoying. She was born that way. My personal theory is that she was born to make my life miserable."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head in fond exasperation. He had seen the Greengrass sisters fight before and he had been shocked, but he also knew that the two of them cared very deeply for each other.

He was quite curious about Sirius and Amelia's child. This would certainly be exciting.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The month of January passed by without any problems. Some wondered if Harry had not attacked anyone because he had been discovered. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were the most vocal that the Boy-Who-Lived was indeed guilty. Harry had become colder in public, if that was even possible. He didn't show even the slightest of emotion, having taken to practising Occlumency every night to suppress his emotions better. He did not want to appear weak in front of the masses. What else frustrated him was the wall he could see in his mind palace which contained a lot of information on the other side; information he guessed belonged to Voldemort. The small cracks he saw were the memories he had accessed accidentally, but the rest of them were still there, untouched.

He actually tried accessing those memories by staring at various key places of Hogwarts, but he didn't get the information he wanted. Finally, Harry was forced to conclude that there must be a powerful trigger with an emotional component for those memories to resurface. Simply seeing or hearing something random didn't make those memories break out. He was also constantly wondering how Lucius Malfoy was involved in this; that is if the man was involved at all. For all he knew, Dobby could have heard the information from someone else and had come to warn him. If Lucius was indeed behind it, Dobby wouldn't have been able to warn Harry. Right?

Gilderoy Lockhart was another pain in the arse. The man's classes were proving to be completely useless and Harry caught more than one group of students in their fifth and seventh years sitting together in the library, trying to learn Defence themselves. Sirius had been furious about this, and to ensure that his godson would not suffer in his O.W.L.s, had taken to teaching the boy Defence Against the Dark Arts himself in the Shrieking Shack. Worse, Lockhart had also tried to celebrate _Valentine's Day_ , something which made all the purebloods splutter in outrage. What was a silly Muggle tradition like that doing at Hogwarts?

Of course, there was still that detention Harry had gotten from Lockhart from the previous term. Harry was confused and annoyed by it. Couldn't the man have finished them all in one week? But no; he just had to drag them over the course of the year.

"This is thankfully the last of the man's stupid detentions," muttered Harry.

"You said it right, Harry. I don't think I can see another fan mail of his again," groaned Fred.

"Maybe we can write something bad and send it as a reply?" suggested George. "It would be nice for his fans to have snarky letters delivered to them."

"Won't work," sighed Fred. "He checks them before signing the letters. We need to be more creative."

"I can't believe he is actually hired to teach Defence!" said Harry in exasperation as they finally reached their destination. "The man is incapable of casting even the most basic of spells; second-year students are better qualified than him! What was Dumbledore thinking? Diggory, what are you doing here?"

Cedric Diggory was sitting on the teacher's desk, in the Defence classroom, looking bored out of his mind. He snapped out of his trance when he saw the three other boys in front of him.

"Oh, hey," he said hesitantly, looking at Harry warily. "Lockhart gave me detention."

"Humph," snorted Fred and George together.

"Figures that he would –"

"– give even 'Puffs detention."

"Come on," muttered Harry as he walked towards the professor's office. "We might as well get it over with. He will no doubt have more letters for us to write."

He opened the door to let them all inside. They entered, but there was no sign of Lockhart. Harry frowned and turned around, only to see the Defence Professor pointing his wand at them. There was a flash of red light and his vision turned black.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Warning:_** ** _The following contains a scene on the attempted assault on minors. If easily offended, please skip the following section and read the end of the chapter or move on to Chapter 11._**

Harry regained consciousness and groaned softly. The first thing he realised was that he couldn't move his hands and legs. He seemed to be restrained magically. His eyes snapped open in panic when he realised that he couldn't speak either. That's when he noticed it.

He was lying on a large bed, completely naked. Beside him, he could see three other boys who were also nude and restrained. This was bad; if not for Sirius explaining it to him, he wouldn't have even known what this meant. Where the hell were they? His eyes trailed around the room and immediately recognised some of the man's items.

Harry couldn't believe that he had been fooled by _Lockhart,_ of all people. He had always underestimated the author-turned-professor, thinking he knew no magic at all, but apparently, he had been wrong to dismiss him completely. Harry saw the twins open their eyes as well. Cedric too had woken up and they were all panicking at their state of undress. Harry struggled, but it was no use. The magic holding him did not buckle under the pressure. He had to get out of these magical binds soon; otherwise, the consequences would be too dire to contemplate. Judging by their state of undress, Harry had a pretty good idea what Lockhart was planning.

Slowly, he started releasing magic out of his body. It was a technique he had read a few months ago while studying Arithmancy. But the problem was that he didn't know how much magic was used by Lockhart while casting the spell, so the amount of magic needed to counteract it would be guesswork. Infusing too much or too little would not work. He would damage himself if he poured too much magic at one go and he did not want that. He would have to start small and increase the power levels slowly.

Just then, the door of the room opened and Gilderoy Lockhart stepped inside, grinning widely. Harry's stomach churned when he saw that expression. He did not like it. Trying to not let his fear get to him, he began concentrating on breaking the magical binds.

"Well, well, well," said Lockhart, as he leered at the four naked boys. "What do we have here? Is this a present for me? I must say you boys sure know how to give me a present for Valentine's Day. How very nice of you!"

When Lockhart saw the twins struggling, he laughed. "There's no point trying to get out of those binds, boys," he taunted. "Fred and George Weasley; the master pranksters of Hogwarts, isn't it? I've always had a soft spot for naughty boys. Then we have Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter – you both are considered the best looking boys in the school, and I must say, I agree."

"Oh, do relax, Harry," he smiled as he placed his hands on Harry, slowly touching the latter's firm chest and stomach. "All those early morning workouts really do help your body, don't they? If you are _this_ delicious when you're barely thirteen, imagine how you would look in a few years."

Harry was terrified by what was going on, but he didn't stop releasing his magic to counter the binds. So far he had been unsuccessful and his eyes widened when he felt Lockhart's hands move lower down his body.

"Aww, aren't you well developed for your age?" asked Lockhart fondly, stroking the boy's penis. He smiled widely as he got up and headed towards the others. Harry closed his eyes and began pumping more magic out of his body. He had to find the right balance or else it wouldn't work, but solving a mathematical problem was much different than practically doing it. Weak binds could be shattered, but these were not weak, relatively speaking. He was getting close; he could feel it. Unfortunately, when Harry opened his eyes next, he was horrified to see that Lockhart had desisted himself of his clothes; the sight itself made all the four boys nauseous as it terrified them out of their wits.

"Let's have some fun, shall we boys?" smiled Lockhart, looking at the terror-filled eyes in front of him. "Now, where do I start? Hmm ... I think I'll have you, Harry. You are my prize this evening. You've been quite the rebel in my classes. _Tsk, tsk_ , what are children taught these days?"

Harry did his best to ignore the man's hands running all over his body. Any second now ... he was close. Just as Lockhart spread Harry's arse cheeks apart and positioned himself in-between the boy's legs, the binds shattered and Harry landed a powerful kick, right at Lockhart's chest.

The magic Harry had been releasing was palpable, creating a powerful aura around him as he stood up. His wand had been taken, but he was not a student of martial arts and wandless magic for nothing.

" _Stupefy_!" cried Lockhart, pointing his wand at the young wizard. Harry simply dodged the red jet of light and cast the most powerful wandless banishment charm he could perform on the professor. Lockhart crashed into the wall just a few feet behind him, but he didn't lose balance. A scarlet jet of light flew out of Harry's palm; the man managed to duck just in time, but the wandless stunner was nowhere powerful enough to do any damage.

Harry sidestepped the spells thrown his way; his green eyes darkened. It was literally a blackish-green colour now, with emerald nowhere to be seen. The magic in the air was thick as he approached Lockhart. With one powerful punch, the Defence professor was disarmed, his wand sailing in the other direction. Lockhart tried to fight, but he did not have any knowledge in hand to hand combat. After several punches and kicks, Harry pointed his hand at the man.

"No, please," begged Lockhart weakly, his face puffed up from the physical blows he had received courtesy of Harry.

"I'll ensure that you get the Dementor's kiss for this, you sick, perverted bastard!" snarled Harry as a jet of red light flew from his palm and impacted Lockhart's chest, stunning him unconscious.

Harry breathed deeply for a minute, quite tired due to the amount of wandless magic he had used, but still stunned by what had happened. He closed his eyes to centre himself as he tried to get his violent emotions under control. The urge to torture and kill Lockhart was strong. Looking around, he saw that the other boys were still bound. Harry opened the door and saw that their possessions were thrown all over the living room. Ignoring the rest, he quickly searched for his wand, grabbed it, and came back inside to rescue his fellow schoolmates. With a few flicks and waves of his wand, the three other boys were unfrozen once more.

"Oh, bloody hell," George whispered as he frantically pulled on his hair. Fred was white as a sheet, his body trembling violently. Cedric was still in shock, looking into the distance, unable to speak, gaze unfocused.

Harry decided to take charge. With a flick of his wand, he summoned his communication mirror which was located in Ravenclaw Tower. When it appeared before him, he grabbed it and murmured, "Amelia Black."

After several seconds, her tired face appeared. "What is it, Harry?" she asked sleepily.

"Aunt Amelia, please come to Hogwarts immediately," said Harry in a very quiet, quivering voice. "Three other boys and I have been sexually molested by Gilderoy Lockhart."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Sirius and Amelia Black ran like the hounds of hell were chasing them. Entering through the massive oak doors, they were greeted by Professor Sprout who led them to the Defence professor's office. As she opened the door, Amelia could hear voices, one of them mentioning the D.M.L.E.

"I'm here," announced Amelia as she entered, with Sirius behind her. She could see the boys back in their uniforms, sitting on the large bed in Lockhart's quarters. The man in question was on the floor, face first, clearly naked.

"I would like to know exactly what happened here," she said, as one of the Aurors behind her took out a dicta-quill.

Taking a deep breath, Cedric, being the oldest, began explaining what he had seen.

"– and then Potter freed us from the magical binds Lockhart had placed on us. I called the teachers by announcing it using a _Sonorus_ charm. We got dressed and waited for everyone to arrive," he finished.

Everyone was in a state of shock. Sirius was clenching his fist in fury while Dumbledore's aura was leaking all around him, his blue eyes burning with anger no one had seen in a long time. Amelia walked ahead and found Lockhart's wand. She pointed the tip of her wand at the other and chanted, " _Priori Incantatem!_ "

The spells used were exactly what young Diggory had described. She nodded to the Auror who removed an evidence bag and put the wand inside. She pointed her wand at Lockhart and cast, " _Rennervate!_ "

Lockhart slowly regained consciousness and turned around. His eyes snapped open when he remembered his fight with the Boy-Who-Lived. That's when he noticed the people in his office; he gulped. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Gilderoy Lockhart, you are under arrest for the suspected sexual assault on four minor boys. You have the right to remain silent and you may request legal counsel. You will be tried before the Wizengamot and until then, you will be held in the D.M.L.E holding cells. Take him."

Lockhart was bound with invisible ropes and escorted out of the room by the two Aurors.

"Boys, you will need to come to the trial as well," Amelia informed them. "I shall let you know the time and date once the trial is fixed."

"Maybe it's better for them to go home for a few days" Sirius suggested quietly, who had been unusually silent.

"Yes, good idea," agreed Dumbledore quietly. "I will contact Arthur Weasley and Amos Diggory and let them know that they are needed here at once. You boys have my permission to take all the time you need; you can return to the school once you feel you are ready."

Harry didn't register the fact that he had been led out of the classroom, down the corridors and out of the castle; he was lost in thought. Once the three of them left the grounds, Sirius took Harry's hand and Portkeyed to Black Manor. The boy collapsed on the couch, staring at the floor; he seemed to be shivering.

"Harry?" whispered Amelia, looking at him worriedly. She sat next to him, just as Harry grabbed her in a tight hug. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't control himself. The weight of everything around him came crashing down.

"Shh, it's alright, Harry," assured Amelia, trying to control her own emotions, rubbing soothing circles on Harry's back as he cried on her shoulder. She saw Sirius collapse on the seat to the left of his godson, clenching his fists in a mixture of anger and worry.

A minute later, Harry breathed deeply, struggling to get his emotions under control. Wiping the tears away, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

"I was overconfident," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "That's why this happened."

Harry mentally kicked himself as he recalled how he had been acting for the past several months. He did not like the conclusion he arrived at. He had become overconfident. His abilities had made him arrogant. Arrogance was the downfall of every powerful leader or civilisation; or in their case, family, and this was a lesson that was drilled into every child in the family since the Potter Massacre. He had forgotten some of the earliest lessons from his ancestor and had become overconfident, leading him to be attacked by Gilderoy Lockhart, of all people.

"No!" shouted Sirius forcefully. "Don't blame yourself, Harry. _This is not your fault_!"

"I let my talent go to my head," said Harry in the same monotonous voice, more tears pooling in his eyes, just as his godfather pulled him into a tight hug. "I became arrogant and overconfident. I underestimated Lockhart and look where it got me. I was assaulted, and if I hadn't broken free, I don't even want to think about what he could have done to the four of us. You lost ten years of your life because you underestimated Pettigrew, didn't you? How is this different?"

Sirius breathed deeply, rubbing his back soothingly as he placed a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead. "Be that may, it is still not your fault," he said patiently. "You've had a long day. I'll bring a phial of dreamless sleep potion to your room. Go on, get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

Nodding slightly, Harry got to his feet, climbed up the stairs towards the bedroom he occupied whenever he stayed at Black Manor.

"We need to get him a Mind Healer," said Amelia quietly.

Sirius nodded sorrowfully.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _I've always found Lockhart to be creepy. Did he use memory charms only for selling books? Doubtful. Also, I'm not supporting such acts of sexual abuse. Far from it. The number of sexual assaults around the world is outrageous, but what is sad is how very few victims get justice, if at all. In this story, Harry became overconfident, and only drastic action would make him realise it and correct his behaviour. It was done for character development and also to show that both boys and girls can be victims of such assault. Hopefully, one day, abuse and assault such as this shall cease to exist._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	11. Daphne's helping hand

**_Chapter 11_**

 ** _Daphne's Helping Hand_**

Gilderoy Lockhart's trial was a sensation. Since he had assaulted the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House, the trial would be automatically held at the Wizengamot instead of at the Council of Magical Law. The Council took care of the everyday legal matters of the British magical world, but the Wizengamot acted as the apex court in the country along with being the legislative body. Very important cases such as this were routed directly there.

The country was up in arms that a famous and beloved author like Gilderoy Lockhart had been arrested. Wanting to take advantage of the situation, Rita Skeeter had printed an article in the Daily Prophet which revealed Harry being a Parselmouth. Sirius was furious that he had still not gotten any information about her, but he persevered. He had hired a company which would screen letters Harry received from the public and forward any lethal letters to the D.M.L.E. Two women had already been arrested for sending undiluted bobotuber pus in the envelopes. A few others had been fined heavily for trying to cause bodily harm to another, a minor at that.

On the day of the trial, Amelia began by explaining what had happened that night and showed the evidence she had collected. She brought several teachers as witnesses and Chief Warlock Dumbledore testified as well. The Weasley and Diggory families were sitting with Harry in the seats meant for the plaintiff.

"I would request this august body to grant us the right to use Veritaserum," said Amelia, her voice booming. "If the accused has –"

" _Hem, hem_."

Amelia stopped talking and her left eye twitched minutely. Even Dumbledore's eyes grew a little cold when he heard that sound.

He turned and said, "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I made the teensiest interruption, Chief Warlock?" she asked in a very girlish, high-pitched voice.

"The Chair recognises Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Dumbledore.

" _Hem, hem._ Thank you, Chief Warlock," said Umbridge in a fake surgery sweet voice. Her eyes landed on Harry, and Harry saw that she had a glint in her eye. Whatever she was going to say, he was sure he wasn't going to like it.

"I was wondering if the Wizengamot could view Mr Potter's memory of the event. If he is not _lying,_ I'm sure he would have no objection to do so, don't you agree?" she asked and gave a girlish giggle at the end.

Harry's eyes darkened and his upper lip curled in distaste. He knew of this woman all right. She was the most hated woman in the entire Ministry from he had heard from Amelia's rants. She was the recently appointed Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, before which she was the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office.

"Objection, Chief Warlock," said Sirius sharply. "I will not consent to view my godson's memory of the event in front of entire Wizengamot and I'm sure Mr and Mrs Weasley, as well as Mr and Mrs Diggory, will agree with me. The boys were being sexually assaulted by Mr Lockhart and hence were in a state of undress. I will not let my godson's naked pictures appear on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_."

"I agree," boomed Amelia. "I have personally viewed the memory of the event I extracted from Mr Potter and I can testify that it is authentic. As the Head of the D.M.L.E., my word should suffice and as Harry Potter's guardian, I too will not let anyone else view that memory."

" _Hem, hem._ Are you suggesting that the boy in question may be _lying_? Mr Lockhart is a very famous author. Accusing him without presenting the main source of evidence is rather convenient, is it not? Especially considering how much publicity Mr Potter would get just to bring the man here on trumped-up charges. It is difficult to believe the words of a _Parselmouth_ ," said Umbridge, smiling sweetly at Harry.

"Accusing without evidence?" repeated Sirius, his eyebrows raised, not at all falling for the trap. "Oh dear, it seems our new Senior Undersecretary is not capable of hearing and seeing what is right in front of her. We have had so many witnesses testify against Mr Lockhart, including the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Chief Warlock. Perhaps you need to look for a new secretary, Minister Fudge. Madam Umbridge seems to be not qualified for the job ... _or know her place_."

"How dare you?" shrieked Umbridge.

"When I said know your place, I meant it," spat Sirius, harshly, his face turning red with anger. "Suggest something so disgusting again and I will declare a blood feud against you and your family for the intentional harm of the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black."

"That will not be necessary," said Dumbledore quickly, putting an end to the discussion before Umbridge ended up dead right there in the Wizengamot chamber. He knew that she was not capable of defeating Sirius in a duel. James and Sirius had been personally trained by Alastor Moody and he didn't want anyone dead over something as trivial as this. In fact, he didn't want people dead, period. There had been enough deaths caused because of Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the last war.

The resolution to give Veritaserum passed by a majority and after Lockhart was dosed, he sang like a canary. He explained what happened that night and why he picked the victims as well. When asked about any other victims, he began listing his future targets, two of which were Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.

Cyrus Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy were horrified.

When the issue of obliviation came up regarding the victims, Lockhart also slipped out about his books. Further clarification revealed that they were all fake, and that he had Obliviated the original people who had done those feats of magic and had taken credit for it so as to boost his popularity. The books he had sold gave him a lot of money and that was the only reason he had applied for the Defence post at Hogwarts. Hundreds of students buying his entire collection of books had increased his sales revenue drastically.

Finally, Harry got what he wanted. Sirius Black, Cyrus Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy did not like what Lockhart had done and had planned to do. His entire monetary assets were seized and were to be divided among the four victims equally. To someone like Harry who came from old money, the amount he received was insignificant to count, but to the Weasleys, it would greatly alleviate their financial strain, especially since they got half of Lockhart's fortune.

When it came to the punishment, Cyrus Greengrass gave a speech about how the man's crimes against the boys were a violation against Mother Magic herself and as such, it shouldn't go unpunished. Lucius Malfoy also agreed, pushing for the verdict. Surprisingly, Dumbledore did not try to stop it and Lockhart was sentenced to the Dementor's kiss, but he did suffer intense disapproval and backlash at hiring Lockhart in the first place. When the next edition of the Daily Prophet was released, people were shocked to stillness about the extent of Lockhart's crimes. Some of them felt ashamed in believing the worst of a twelve-year-old boy when the man himself was a monster, but they were still digesting the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived was a Parselmouth.

No one sent any letters of apology.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A week later, Harry came back to Hogwarts. Having already finished breakfast, he slowly made his way over to the Potions classroom when he literally ran into someone.

"Uff!" cried Daphne as arms wrapped around her waist to stop her from falling. "Get your hands off – _Harry_!"

She immediately rushed into his arms and hugged him tightly. Harry smiled softly as he hugged her back. He had really missed her over the past several days.

"How are you?" she asked softly. "I heard about what happened; the entire school was in shock."

"I'm fine," said Harry quietly. "But Sirius is making me go to a Mind Healer to help deal with what happened. I tried to say no, but he wouldn't listen. I'll have to go to St Mungo's every weekend for a few hours."

"That's good isn't it?"

"Talking to a stranger about my feelings?" said Harry, his left eye twitching in annoyance. "If it hadn't been for secrecy oaths, I would never have agreed, despite Sirius not giving me a choice in the first place. How have you been?"

"I've missed you," she admitted softly.

A small smile made its way to Harry's face as he pulled her closer to him. Their lips touched briefly and after several seconds, they broke apart. Harry looked at her tenderly, moving closer to nuzzle his face against hers, breathing her scent deeply.

He really had missed her; more than he cared to admit.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

It was now the first week of March and the castle had quietened somewhat. There had been no more attacks for a long time now and people thought it was finally safe. Harry was just returning from Quidditch practice when he heard the voice again.

" _Kill ... Rip ... so hungry ... Kill this time ..."_

He stopped mid-step, his heart thumping a mile a minute. He had a choice. He could ignore it and be blamed for it anyway or he could find out what the creature was and maybe find the attacker at the same time. If he caught the attacker red-handed, the Ministry of Magic would finally have a lead as to what was causing the attacks. With that in mind, he rushed towards the opposite direction of Ravenclaw Tower, listening to the sounds which were rapidly fading.

He was in the fourth-floor girl's bathroom. Tentatively opening the door, his eyes widened when he saw Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater lying on the floor in front of the sink with a mirror above. He went forward to check and he confirmed that they were petrified. There was no sign of any wizard or creature nearby. How had the attacker fled so quickly? This was not possible!

Just as he was about to leave, Peeves showed up in the corridor outside, signing to himself. "What are you up to, Potty?" he said in a sing-song voice. "Potty, Potty, you are such a dorky –"

Peeves stopped singing when he caught sight of the petrified girls inside the bathroom. Before Harry could even begin to do damage control, the poltergeist was yelling at the top of his voice.

"MURDER! Murder in the bathroom! Attack! Ataaaackkk! No one is safe in this castle! Run for your lives!"

Harry sighed as he leaned against the wall. There was no escaping this. He had found the girls _inside_ the bathroom; a place he had no business being in. What explanation could he give now?

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Sherbet lemon," said Professor McGonagall as she led Harry to the Headmaster's office. She looked at him coldly as she said, "Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you."

Harry nodded stiffly as he ascended up the spiral staircase. He knocked on the door and entered. The place was the same as always, except this time, the phoenix looked old and frail. Harry went over to the bird and smiled.

"Hello, o noble phoenix," said Harry softly. "I'm sorry I could not greet you before. I'm not exactly fond of your companion. Burning day, huh?"

The phoenix trilled softly, but it was full of pain. When Harry could smell fire, he calmly stepped back, giving it more room. Giving one final croak of pain, the phoenix burst into flames. After several seconds, Harry went near and saw the small ugly chick rise from the ashes.

"Take care of yourself," said Harry softly as the phoenix trilled at him fondly.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore coming down the stairs. "Ah, I see Fawkes has gone through with his burning. About time too; he's been quite irritable lately."

"I would be too if I were so sick that I could barely move or speak," said Harry, as he took his seat. Dumbledore observed the young boy with keen eyes. The Potter scion's expression was blank, showing no hint of fear. It reminded him again of Tom Riddle. Speaking of which –

"Now, Harry," said Dumbledore, looking at him pointedly. "May I ask what you were doing when you came across Miss Granger and Miss Clearwater?"

Harry didn't answer. His face was impassive as always as he stared at the wall behind the headmaster. He honestly didn't know what to say.

"Nothing to say?" said Dumbledore, observing Harry. "This situation has become a lot more serious, Harry. I'm asking you again; what were you doing in that bathroom on the fourth floor?"

Harry's lip curled slightly. "I heard a voice," he said finally.

"A voice, you say?"

"Yes. It was talking about killing. I followed it. That's how I stumbled upon Finch-Fletchley as well."

"I see," said Dumbledore slowly. "I hope you are telling the truth, Harry, because if you are not, it would be disastrous for you. I already know that you harbour a hatred for Muggles and Muggle-borns –"

"Excuse me?" said Harry sharply. "Who told you that I hate Muggle-borns? I don't! My own mother was Muggle-born, for Merlin's sake!"

"I know of witches and wizards who have had Muggles for parents and yet they hate Muggles with a passion," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "Please, Harry. Stop this madness. The attacks have gone on long enough. We can work together in repairing the damage. Don't walk down this path. I urge you to reconsider what you are doing."

Harry's face showed genuine surprise. "You actually believe that _I_ am responsible for this?" he asked incredulously.

When Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, Harry's eyes darkened in anger.

"You will all have to swallow your words one day, old man," Harry whispered angrily as he got up. "And I will laugh in your face when that day comes when you realise that I was innocent all along. I can't believe you!"

Dumbledore watched as Harry walked out of the office, slamming the door in the process. Was the boy truly innocent as he claimed? If that were true, who was responsible for these attacks?

Could Voldemort somehow be responsible for this? He had dismissed that idea thinking Harry was guilty, but maybe – just maybe, there was something else going on here. Or was Harry lying about it? No, Harry was many things, but he was far from stupid. Lying to the Chief Warlock was not an option. Then there was that voice. What was that all about? A flicker of surprise found its way to his eyes as he consulted a book on magical snakes.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Two weeks had passed since the incident with the Headmaster. The D.M.L.E. had finally been allowed to investigate the matter, but there was no evidence of an attack. The entire school seemed to give Harry a wide berth now. Nobody in his fifth-year class seemed to want to be seated anywhere near him. Dumbledore had also been dismissed by the Board of Governors and surprisingly enough, Hagrid had been arrested. Harry guessed that he must have been accused of opening the Chamber the last time. How Fudge knew about this was anyone's guess, but if Harry wanted proof of Lucius Malfoy's involvement, he had gotten it now.

Daphne also seemed to want to get to the bottom of the mystery, so she spent more time in the library. Harry didn't know where to start. He was loaded to the brim with work as his O.W.L.s drew near and he didn't have time to sleep let alone investigate what was going on. He had checked the map for Lucius Malfoy or even Voldemort, but there was nothing there! It was as though the attacker was invisible. The problem was that there was absolutely no record of any incident with the Chamber of Secrets. He tried to access Hagrid's record, but it didn't exist except for when he was expelled, so he had no idea what the half-giant had done, so he turned to the people who could inform him.

"He was expelled for letting lose a creature which killed a girl in his third year," said Amelia, looking through a very thin file as the mirror floated in front of her. "I don't have any other information. After he was expelled, Dumbledore apparently convinced Headmaster Dippet to keep Hagrid at Hogwarts and train him as a gamekeeper. There is no mention of the Chamber at all. And don't even ask me about Tom Riddle. There is absolutely no mention of him beyond his academic records. Voldemort must have wiped them clean during the war."

"Damn," muttered Harry. "Thanks, Aunt Amy. I have a Quidditch match now. I'll talk to you later."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Albus Dumbledore adjusted his cloak as he walked alone in the streets of Kockturn Alley. He was a man on a mission and he wouldn't leave until he got to the bottom of the mystery. He had still not figured out how Voldemort was causing the attacks on Hogwarts, but he had a pretty good idea of what was attacking the students. But he was here for another reason – to find out more information on one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Good even, Borgin," said Dumbledore as he dropped his glamour. "How have you been, old friend?"

"Dumbledore," sneered Borgin as he saw his old schoolmate. "What a _displeasure_ it is to see you. What do you want?"

"Can't an old man drop by to visit an old friend?" said Dumbledore, smiling at the owner of Borgin and Burkes.

"We were never _friends_ , Dumbledore, so cut the crap and tell me what you want," said Borgin in a wheezy voice.

"Very well," said Dumbledore as he drew himself to his fullest height, his powerful aura palpable as he looked at Borgin with narrowed eyes. "What can you tell me about a young man who worked here fifty years ago? He was an old student of mine ... named Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Borgin paled rapidly and looked ready to die of shock. He was trembling in fear as he realised who Dumbledore was referring to. He still remembered the tortured screams of his business partner Caractacus Burke when Voldemort killed him years ago. He still did not know why the Dark Lord had targeted Burke, but he had no intention of ever finding out.

"I-I have n-no idea w-what you a-are talking a-about," stuttered Borgin, trying not to gulp in fear. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and his wand was out of his robes in a fraction of a second, far too fast for Borgin to even think.

A pure ripple of magic left his wand as he cast a stunning spell on the man. With another flick, the door of the shop closed, the windows tinted so that no one would be able to see or hear what was going on. He needed information on what Voldemort had done once he left Hogwarts. He knew that Voldemort had explored the idea of Horcruxes from the memory he had received from Horace Slughorn, not to mention that soul piece that was lodged in Harry's scar, but he didn't have the faintest idea where the Dark Lord's Horcruxes could be. Unfortunately, Voldemort was too good at hiding his movements, so it would take some time.

He would not let Voldemort destroy the world they were trying to rebuild. Albus had seen the cost of war and he had taken drastic steps to ensure that Voldemort was defeated, going so far as to betray people who trusted him. He would ensure the man was destroyed for good, no matter what the cost. People like Voldemort could not be allowed to live and he was willing to take any action necessary so that the people of Magical Britain and beyond did not have to suffer again because of his old student's insanity and thirst for power.

" _Legilimens!"_

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Meanwhile, Daphne had just come out from inside a bathroom, repairing the portion of the wall which she had blasted apart. She wondered if anyone knew about the pipes that were at Hogwarts. From her position, she could see small spiders crawling away through the small holes in the stone. She had never seen spiders acting this way. Her eyes widened when she realised the implications. They had never thought about spiders. Hagrid's roosters had been killed earlier this year – it had been chalked off to a wild animal from the Forbidden Forest. Wait, in which year had Hagrid been expelled?

Just as Daphne rushed to the library, another girl was frowning at her, clutching a small black diary to her chest. The girl's eyes were crimson.

The book which contained the records of students showed that Hagrid had been expelled in his third year. Tom Riddle, who Harry had revealed to her as Voldemort had gotten an award for special services to the school the same year. That couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

What was the name of the girl that had died?

Daphne's eyes widened. Oh, sweet Merlin; why had no one thought to ask her? Maybe Dumbledore had, but had never gotten an answer before. All the girls at Hogwarts tended to avoid that bathroom because of Myrtle. But first, she had to ensure her safety. She took out the book on magical snakes and copied the sheet and scribbled on it. Once done, she removed a handheld mirror which she always had in her bag. Making her way to the first-floor girl's bathroom, she observed the writing on the wall. Daphne looked at the mirror to check behind her, just to be safe.

The last thing she saw was a pair of great, big yellow eyes by the sink behind her as she dropped like a stone.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teams were mounting their brooms when Professor McGonagall came running across the pitch. She pointed her wand at her throat.

" _Sonorus_ _!_ This match has been cancelled. All students are to make their way to their common rooms immediately. Your Heads of House will give you further instructions. Move as quickly as you can!" she shouted.

She then turned to Harry and said, "Potter, I think you better come with me."

Some of the students were grumbling about the match being cancelled, others looked worried. Someone shouted from the crowd, "I bet Potter has murdered someone! Don't let him go!"

"Quiet!" barked McGonagall furiously. "Twenty points from Gryffindor and another word from any of you and you'll be very sorry indeed! All of you to your common rooms, NOW!"

Harry quietly followed her inside the castle, his face impassive as always. He wondered what was going on. Had there been another attack? Were they calling the Aurors for an official investigation again? Was he going to be suspended? If he was, then there was no way he was ever coming to Hogwarts after that. He had enough of these people's foolishness.

"This may be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall, looking at Harry worriedly. Harry wondered why she was looking at him that way. Her face was filled with dread and guilt. When they stepped inside the Hospital Wing, Harry's face went white as a sheet as he dropped his broomstick which fell to the floor with a clang.

Daphne Greengrass was lying on the bed, one arm extended forward, her beautiful face frozen in shock. She was petrified.

Harry was unable to move. He stood there silent, unable to breathe. Slowly, he made his way towards the bed, not able to tear his eyes away from the girl's face.

"She was found on the first floor," said Professor McGonagall softly. "She had this mirror in her hand. We're not sure why she had that mirror at all."

Harry wasn't listening to her though. He collapsed on the bed next to Daphne, unable to speak. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey looked at each other worriedly.

"Lord and Lady Greengrass have been informed," she said. "They'll be here soon. I know it doesn't count for much, but I would like to apologise for suspecting you, Potter. I really am sorry for not believing you like everyone else."

Harry couldn't believe that Daphne had been attacked. She was the only one at school who had stood by him without a smidgen of doubt. He didn't know why he felt as though his heart was literally shattering into pieces. He had never felt so attached to anyone before, but Daphne was special. She was his best friend and also his fiancée.

Silent tears rolled down Harry's cheeks as he sat down on the bed, holding Daphne's stiff hand. He didn't utter a sound and his face was completely blank except for the tear-filled eyes which were burning in sorrow and guilt.

Professor McGonagall sighed as she walked out of the Hospital Wing. For someone who had always seen an impenetrable mask on Harry's face, it was startling to see him actually crying, even if he never uttered a sound. Her heart clenched in guilt for suspecting him. Albus had to be informed about this. But first, she had to inform the students about the new rules she had decided to implement.

Ten minutes after she left, Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass strolled inside the castle. When they entered the Hospital Wing, they saw their eldest daughter lying on the bed, stiff as a rock. Harry was sitting on a chair next to her, looking off into the distance. When they approached closer to them, the elder Greengrasses were startled to see the tear stains on Harry's cheeks.

"Daphne," croaked Cyrus as he placed a hand on his daughter's forehead. She was so cold. Tears pricked his eyes as he looked at the boy who was sitting still, not looking at them.

"Harry," said Elizabeth softly as she moved over to him. "Harry, please, talk to us."

But he remained still, his eyes unfocused. "I will make them pay for this," he whispered, his green eyes darkening slightly. "When I get my hands on whoever is responsible, I will make them pay!"

"Harry – Harry, calm down," said Elizabeth, rubbing his back soothingly.

He closed his eyes, trying his best to get his emotions under control. His eyes were burning with rage and hate. It may be days, weeks, months or years – but he would find out who was responsible for this and he would kill them personally. They would pay for what they did to Daphne. His grip on her hand tightened.

Lucius Malfoy was going to die by his hand only. He was a dead man walking. Harry would wait. He was nothing if not patient. Sometime in the future, when he was powerful enough to take him, he would ensure that Lucius regretted messing with Harry. The man would suffer in the most painful way possible.

No one in Hogwarts School slept well that night. They were all in a state of shock. If Daphne Greengrass, a pureblood girl from one of the oldest families in the country and a Slytherin to boot was attacked, how safe were the rest? But one thing was clear.

Harry Potter was not the one attacking the Muggle-borns. Everyone knew from just watching them how deeply Harry cared about Daphne, so it was not difficult to conclude that they had suspected the wrong person. The Heir of Slytherin was still out there, attacking the students of Hogwarts. And he didn't seem to care about purebloods either.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Thank you, Mr Devonshire," said Lord Sirius Black as he looked at the file which contained the signed sheets of parchment. "I will have the agreed value of the shares purchased transferred to your vault."

"I assume the – information – will not make the light of day?" asked Mr Devonshire, sweating. He swallowed nervously. He had heard about the Black family information network and their ways of persuasion, but he had never had the _pleasure_ of experiencing it himself. How the hell did Black find out that he was the owner of the _Daily Prophet_ in the first place? He and his two business partners had ensured that it was kept quiet. The information Black had about them was too terrifying to even think about. But he would get back at Black one day. He wasn't going to be a sitting duck. He could already sense the subtle shift in power. Politics was heavily dependent on the media and Lord Sirius Black now controlled the _Daily Prophet_.

"Enjoy your day, Mr Devonshire," said Sirius with a smile. When the disgruntled and angry older man turned to walk towards the door, Sirius' smile dropped as he pointed his wand at the man's back.

" _Obliviate!_ "

" _Stupefy!_ "

"I think the D.M.L.E. would love to get their hands on you and your two friends," said Sirius with a smirk. "Smuggling illegal potions and artefacts; you all should realise now why the Blacks have always held power and why we have considered ourselves close to royalty. And it is time we got it back!"

"You should have left my son alone. Let's see what the Daily Prophets says about Harry Potter with _me_ in charge."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry waved his wand as he conjured a bunch of multi-coloured orchids which he placed at Daphne's bedside table. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone at Hogwarts since the incident. Sirius had told him about the change in ownership of the Daily Prophet. It was now equally owned by the Houses of Potter and Black, but of course, no one would know that. It was under an alias – under the name of one Frank Olive. Any information about the true holders of the shares was covered under a mountain of paperwork so that no one would bother looking for it - or find it. Sirius had gone an extra mile and actually created a fake identity for Frank Olive. No one would know that he never existed.

"I miss you," whispered Harry as he rubbed Daphne's hand with his thumb. He frowned when he felt something in her fist. He looked down and felt a sheet of parchment nested inside her hand and he spent several seconds trying to get it out. Once he smoothened the sheet, he read what was in it.

 _Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach a gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

Harry frowned because he had ruled out the possibility of the creature being a basilisk. But he saw that Daphne had written something at the bottom of the sheet.

 _Pipes – plumbing inside the castle._

 _Ask Moaning Myrtle – may be able to find out more._

 _Windows – spiders acting strangely._

 _Hagrid's roosters – killed._

 _Ergo, the Basilisk._

But the basilisk's gaze kills, doesn't it? Then why wasn't anyone dead? Oh wait; no one did look the creature in the eye. All of them looked at it indirectly which was what caused the petrification in the first place. There had always been a barrier – water on the ground, a ghost, mirrors ...

Moaning Myrtle? She was the one killed fifty years ago, wasn't she? Harry's eyes widened. Why hadn't he thought about that before? Between all the studying he had been doing along with the shit he was dealing with from the students of the school and the rest of the country, he had discounted a major part of the mystery. His blood chilled when he thought about the basilisk that was at Hogwarts. He remembered what Amelia had told him months ago about a basilisk.

 _"And a good thing too," said Amelia darkly. "A basilisk will cause an international red alert because it can be used for mass destruction. Can you imagine the damage someone like Voldemort could do if he gained access to a basilisk? He could wreak havoc in scales we can't even imagine!"_

Oh, dear Merlin! There was a bloody weapon of mass destruction right under the castle! He quickly got up and walked towards the first-floor corridor when he heard a voice echoing throughout the hallways.

"All students return to your their House common rooms at once! Teachers report to the staffroom immediately."

Harry frowned. Something must have happened. He cast a Notice-me-not charm over himself using the locket, silenced his feet and went over to the staffroom. He stood outside and cast an eavesdropping charm and listened.

"It's happened. A student has been taken right into the Chamber itself. The heir has left another message: _Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever._ This is going to be the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said ..." said McGonagall, sounding worried and scared.

"Who is it?" whispered Madam Hooch.

"Ginny Weasley," replied McGonagall morosely.

Harry left and quickly went towards the first-floor girl's bathroom. He had to verify Daphne's theory. He had actually never come to this part of the castle. He had no reason to come here too because the hallway did not connect to Ravenclaw Tower or any of his classrooms. Just as he entered the bathroom, he was assaulted by another memory.

 _He had found it! He could feel his excitement and elation at finding the entrance to Salazar Slytherin's famous Chamber of Secrets. It had taken him four years and now, he would find out what was here._

 _He looked at the sink in front of him. "Open," he said, slipping easily into Parseltongue as he always had. The sink expanded, leaving a pipe he could slide through._

Harry gasped when he came out of the memory, wincing in pain as he clutched his head. Breathing hard, he looked around and noticed that a ghost was watching him.

"Are you Myrtle?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, what do you want?" asked the ghost, looking grumpy.

"I was wondering if you could tell me how you died," he asked slowly.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" said Harry, narrowing his eyes, his mind working furiously as he put the pieces together

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes by that sink. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away …"

"Has someone else come to ask you about this?" asked Harry, going by a hunch. "Maybe Dumbledore …"

"Don't mention him in front of me!" screeched Myrtle angrily. "I _hate_ that man! If he could control his precious Gryffindors better I would never have died! But no, Dumbledore always favoured his little lions. No one cared about poor Myrtle. No, even after I died, Hornby got away with it all, didn't she? Dumbledore ensured that she wasn't given any punishment. The last time Dumbledore tried to talk to me I ensured that he didn't sleep for weeks as I pestered him, blaming him for my death. I won't speak to him, now or ever. He doesn't care about poor, moping, Moaning Myrtle."

Harry blinked his eyes rapidly, processing that information. No wonder Snape got away with favouring the Slytherins so blatantly. Dumbledore used to do the same with the Gryffindors. Was it any wonder that House rivalry was as bad as it was with people like them in charge?

" _Open_ ," said Harry, slipping easily into Parseltongue like it was second nature to him. The tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for five people to slide into. His wand slipped out of its holster and into his waiting hand. Taking a deep breath, Harry jumped into the pipe.

It was like rushing down a dark, slimy slide. The light from the tip of his wand gave off an eerie image. Harry could see many other pipes which were branching off in several directions – Daphne's theory was right. The basilisk had been using the plumbing that had been installed in the castle to launch its attacks. It really was a brilliant design on Salazar's part. Plumbing had not been invented in the Muggle world at that time, but even though it was not necessary for magical castles, Salazar had adapted the technique to use it to deploy the basilisk. He cast the momentum arresting charm on himself as the end of the pipe neared and landed gracefully on both feet, eyes vigilant.

" _Scourgify_ ," he cast silently and all the slime that had gathered on his face and clothes disappeared, leaving him clean.

He was in some sort of wet tunnel. They were probably under the lake and he grimaced when he stepped on a mountain of fish bones. His body went stiff when he saw the snakeskin. It looked black from the distance but would shine a dark, blackish green when the light fell on it. There was a _lot_ of shed skin here and he didn't even want to think about the size of the basilisk. He walked for a couple of minutes when he reached a great stone wall with two snakes intertwined. The eyes of the snakes were glittering emeralds.

" _Open_ ," hissed Harry.

The massive stone wall parted, giving him entry, as his hands shook slightly due to fear. Reinforcing his mental shields, Harry walked inside the Chamber of Secrets.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I don't see the point in pipes being used in magical homes when you have several spells that can take care of the job. Ergo, the pipes must have been designed for some other purpose. It was Salazar's design to use the pipes to deploy the basilisk in case muggles ever invaded the castle. Thanks for the reviews!_**


	12. The Chamber of Secrets

**_Chapter 12_**

 ** _The Chamber of Secrets_**

He was standing at the end of a very long and dimly lit chamber. Giant statues of snakes were on both sides. The ceiling was lost in the darkness and there was an odd greenish glow to the entire place. Ancient lighting charms and torches illuminated a large statue two hundred meters from his position and he could see from so far away that Ginny Weasley was lying down in front of it. He slowly walked towards her, idly looking around for the Basilisk. He reached the girl, bent down and shook her arm.

"Weasley, wake up."

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry immediately stood up and took his duelling stance in record time. His eyes narrowed when he saw a tall black haired boy leaning against a stone pillar. The edges of his body seemed to be blurred, but otherwise, he looked quite solid. And he was also holding a wand.

"Who are you?" asked Harry quietly, still not having moved from his stance.

"Tom Riddle," he said quietly.

"Voldemort!" breathed Harry, his eyes wide in shock. " _You're_ responsible for these attacks? But I checked – I thought for sure that you were not in the castle."

"Oh, so you know who I am?" Riddle smirked. "Good, very good, Harry. That ensures that I have your attention."

Harry saw that Riddle was gripping Ginny's wand. What in Merlin's name was he? This was not the Voldemort he had detected last year, was he? How did Voldemort circumvent the enchantments on the map?

" _What_ are you?"

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

"Don't test my intelligence," snapped Harry, sounding annoyed. "You are not a mere memory."

"True," Riddle nodded, looking amused. "I know that you are far from stupid, Harry Potter. Ginny has told me all about you; about how you got yourself accepted into the accelerated program, about how you won the Under-13 International Duelling Championship, everything. Most impressive, I must admit."

"I'm glad you think so," Harry said curtly, his brain worked overtime, thinking about what in their surroundings he could use against Riddle.

"I have waited a long time to meet you, Harry Potter," said Riddle softly, eyeing Harry hungrily. "So long ..."

Harry's eyes fell on the diary that was held in Ginny Weasley's hands. Several memories came slamming into Harry's mind, but this time he was ready. He created a pocket in his mind, trapping the memories within so that he could view them later.

"Why did Weasley open the Chamber?"

"Oh, figured it out, have you?" said Riddle, smiling broadly. "It's not like she had a choice. Stupid little Ginny has been writing in my diary all year, telling me all sorts of things. Things she had never told anyone else. I grew stronger as she poured her fears and secrets into me day after day. She began pouring her soul into me and that was exactly what I needed. Slowly I grew stronger, Harry, and I began ordering the attacks on the Mudbloods in the school."

Riddle's eyes had a red tint to them now and Harry watched the boy, his face still impassive. He needed an opening to attack.

"But of course, my initial plan took a backseat once Ginny told me your _fascinating_ history," said Riddle, his eyes not leaving Harry's face. "About how you survived a Killing Curse at the age of one and managed to actually reflect it back at the caster, namely me. So I wanted to know more about you. I was quite stunned when Ginny told me that you were a Parselmouth so that increased my desire to find you, to talk to you ..."

"And did you think I would have been interested in talking to an alternate version of my parents' killer?" spat Harry.

"I knew that you wouldn't talk to me, Harry. That's why I thought I could make things more interesting. But before that could happen, someone had discovered my secret. Your little girlfriend discovered the existence of the basilisk and how it was using the pipes concealed in the school to launch its attacks. If Greengrass ran off to the Ministry, it would be nearly impossible for me to talk to you, so I decided to eliminate her. Of course, she is a smart girl, I will give her that. When she realised that there was a possibility of an attack, she took the necessary precautions. If not for that stupid hand-held mirror, she would have died, just like I wanted her to."

"Why did you want to target Daphne?" said Harry through gritted teeth. "Did you think I would be easier to talk to if you had killed my best friend, my fiancée?"

Riddle laughed loudly. "For someone who supposedly shuts off his emotions, you are quite attached to her, aren't you?" he said with a smirk. "A natural Occlumens; very interesting … I had to learn Occlumency on my own, though, but I did possess a natural talent for Legilimency. We do have so many things in common, don't we Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, both of us are orphans, both of us are quite exceptional when it comes to magic," said Riddle. "Both of us have a natural affinity for the mind arts. We even look alike, don't we? We are both Parselmouths. Both of us are half-blood and –"

"You're a half-blood?" asked Harry in surprise. He had tried to find out any and all information about Tom Riddle from Hogwarts and the Ministry, but all useful information had been wiped clean. He knew that Riddle was not a British wizarding name, but he had expected something else; not ... this.

"Of course I am," said Riddle, his face distorting in rage. He traced his wand in the air as he began writing.

 _TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

He slashed his wand in the air and the letters rearranged the letters forming –

 _I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

"Did you think I would keep my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins flows the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, on my mother's side? No, Harry. I chose a new name, a name someday everyone would be too scared to speak when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"It didn't turn out that way, did it?" Harry smirked. "How pathetic must you really be if you were unable to kill a fifteen-month-old infant?"

"Yes," said Riddle, clenching his teeth. "How is that _you_ , a defenceless baby, managed to survive the Killing Curse? How did you survive with nothing more than a scar as Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"No one knows how and why the curse rebounded on you," Harry answered in a calm voice. "My mother performed a sacrificial ritual based on blood magic, but it would not have worked against something as deadly as the _Avada Kedavra_ curse; at least that was her hypothesis from what I've read from her journal. Maybe it worked or maybe it didn't. But the ritual would not have reflected the curse back at the caster. Since I was just a baby then, I can't remember what happened or how I managed to do so. It's a mystery to me as well."

Riddle began laughing a high, cold laugh. "Blood magic?" he repeated, quite amused. "My, oh my, looks like your mother wasn't as 'light' as I heard, Harry. From what I have been told, Lily Potter was considered the epitome of the light and yet she dabbled in the Dark Arts."

"My mother was a brilliant woman and a pragmatist," Harry shot back. His green eyes were focussed on Riddle's form, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Lord Voldemort. He was curious. What had made Riddle want to become the psychopath killer that he was? He needed more information and for that, he needed to talk to Riddle. Voldemort was clearly alive and had a lot of secrets. This was probably the golden opportunity to learn more about the man that had wanted to kill him as an infant more than a decade ago.

"She knew that her son's life was in danger and took action. I don't believe in the stupid stigma called light magic or dark magic. It's all the same. It is the intent behind the use of magic which makes it dark or light. Magic in its purest form does not come with such labels attached to it. It is just that – _magic_ , and my mother understood that."

Riddle smirked. "Oh, you certainly aren't Dumbledore's golden boy, are you?" he cooed. "The old man is quite bigoted when it comes to anything even remotely related to the Dark Arts. I heard you don't like Muggles as well. That shows how alike we are, doesn't it?"

"What is this, a recruiting ground?" Harry sneered. "Do you think I'll join you, a man who is so demented and insane that he needlessly killed thousands of witches and wizards for his own personal amusement? As for me hating Muggles, I have a reason for it! I was raised by my mother's Muggle sister and her husband. I was abused mentally and physically throughout my childhood. I was given little to no food to eat while forced to sleep in a tiny boot cupboard under the stairs. They beat me up every day for accidental magic and had I had not escaped when I was seven years old, I would have died! None of the Muggles in the area helped me even though all the signs of abuse were present!"

"Were you nearly beaten to death during your childhood? Were you starved day after day? Were you scorned by your teachers and neighbours? Were your parents' memories tarnished by others spreading rumours that they were drunken prostitutes? I have every right to hate them! They didn't do anything to help me but instead made my life miserable! What reason do you have? You're the one who hates Muggle-borns along with Muggles. I have no problems with Muggle-borns. My own mother was Muggle-born! A brilliant one at that. Magic is magic and you are killing the very thing which makes us different! You are a fool, Riddle!"

Riddle was quiet. That was not what he had expected. Just as he was about to speak and let the boy know of his own horrible childhood, Harry took his moment to attack. His wand slashed in the air and a jet of blue light flew from the tip of his wand. Riddle dodged it and waved his own wand. Jets of light flew from both foci, their curses becoming lethal.

These were the curses Harry had studied from books in the Black library and they were quite dark in nature. The pain one would feel if it was inflicted on them was truly horrifying. They were indeed the Dark Arts, but Harry had come to realise that there was again a difference between the Dark Arts and the Black Arts, the latter being quite dangerous, from what he had read from his mother's notes. The dark wasn't something that shouldn't be learnt. Anything in excess was bad, including light magic. Balance was essential, but Dumbledore, in his fear of dark wizards, had removed several subjects when he became Headmaster of Hogwarts to ensure that only light magic was taught.

That led to poor quality witches and wizards graduating every year. They were slow and sloppy, not to mention weak. The balance was broken, but on the other hand, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were perfect examples of what would happen should one sink too deep into the darkest of magic. Voldemort and Bellatrix were literally insane.

Harry flicked his wand at the pool of water to his right. The water rose into the air; he quickly spun his wand in a small round motion and the water immediately flew towards Riddle, trapping him in a large liquid sphere. The tip of Harry's wand was glowing bright blue while he was using his off hand to steer the sphere to the other side. Suddenly, Riddle broke free and banished huge gallons of water back at his opponent. Harry charmed it to solidify into ice and transfigured it into tiny, razor-sharp ice crystals and flung them back at Riddle. The other boy slashed his wand in the air and transfigured the ice crystals into grains of sand. He then moved his wand in a circular motion many times, pointing it up. The sand formed a mini tornado which was fast approaching Harry.

Harry then pointed his wand at one of the ancient torches in the chamber which flew off its hold; the fire disintegrated the sand tornado, but it turned into a giant fire eagle which launched itself at Riddle. But it no longer was an eagle, but a large black serpent moving towards Harry who blasted it to smoke, which solidified within seconds to form several daggers which moved towards Riddle. The older boy conjured marble to impact the daggers, but some of them escaped and hit him in the head and chest.

Harry had just dodged the block of marble which had headed his way when he saw the daggers impact Riddle. "It's over Tom. You –" said Harry, but stopped mid-sentence with his jaw hanging open in shock.

Tom Riddle smiled at Harry widely. The holes that had formed in his chest and head had disappeared as if they had never existed. "Did you think you could defeat me, Harry? _I am Lord Voldemort_! The greatest and most powerful wizard in history! One that was able to drive Dumbledore away from this castle! Did you think I would lose to a mere twelve-year-old boy?" he sneered.

Harry stood silently, breathing hard. This was not a regular body; it was a magical construct so conventional means would not work. How else was he supposed to kill him?

"Do you feel safe now, Harry Potter? You were foolish to come here alone. There's no one here to help you. What's going to stop you from dying now?"

Harry was frozen at his spot when he heard something. Music was coming from somewhere. He and Riddle turned and spotted a beautiful scarlet phoenix flying towards them. Fawkes dropped something in Harry's hands and settled on his shoulder.

"The Sorting Hat?" Riddle laughed. "This is proving to be quite entertaining. Let's see what you and the songbird can do against the King of Serpents."

Riddle turned towards the massive statue and hissed, " _Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four_."

Harry backed away, looking for a way to escape. Maybe coming down here alone wasn't a good idea after all. He conjured a rooster and hit it with an amplifying charm. The rooster crowed, but Riddle laughed.

"Impressive conjuration, Harry, but it won't work," he said with a smile. "This is Salazar Slytherin's basilisk. It is not that easy to defeat it. _Kill him_."

Harry closed his eyes as he felt Fawkes lift off into the air. Extending his senses, Harry flicked his wand at Riddle's general direction as he began shooting curses; anything to distract Riddle. He put the Sorting Hat over his head for all the good it would do, but he had never practised magic with his eyes closed.

Harry winced in pain as he hit a massive snake statue, having been thrown off his feet by a blasting curse. Blood poured from behind his head and smeared on the stone pillar as he panted. Why did Salazar keep a Basilisk in a school? It made no sense! He founded Hogwarts to protect magical children from the Muggles. So there was no way he would use it to kill the students of the castle, Muggle-born or not. It was his job to protect the students –

 _Protect._ That was it! Salazar did not raise this Basilisk to kill the students, but rather to protect the students in case the Muggles ever invaded the castle. It was probably the final backup plan, in case all was lost. The snake had been here for more than a thousand years; it must be confused as to who really was the enemy.

When he heard the basilisk shriek in agony, Harry opened his eyes, not being able to stop himself. The sight before him made him gasp.

The basilisk was probably seventy feet long! It was fighting the phoenix which was flying circles around the great snake. Harry saw that blood was leaking from the basilisk's eyes – Fawkes must have destroyed its eyes.

" _NO! LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD!"_ screamed Riddle. " _THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!"_

' _Thank you for believing in the true legacy of Salazar Slytherin, Mr Potter, and not the twisted version that history has turned him into. You are truly worthy of being the heir of Gryffindor. Godric would be proud of you_ ,' said the Sorting Hat in Harry's mind. The next second, Harry felt something very hard and heavy hitting him on the head, which almost knocked him out. He pulled the hat away from his head, only to grab a handle. He pulled on it to grab a gleaming silver sword probably three feet long, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

The basilisk approached him. Harry quickly raised the sword, but what was the use? He had learnt martial arts, but not fencing! The basilisk lunged blindly. It missed him, but it struck the giant snake statue, sending chunks of stone everywhere. Harry tried to strike it back, but the great tail of the snake hit him instead, bodily throwing him across the chamber.

Harry whimpered in pain as he got to his feet. Fawkes was trying to distract the basilisk, but it won't be for long. Conjuring a ladder, Harry climbed on top of one of the snake statues.

" _Here snakey, snakey_ ," hissed Harry, holding the sword in both hands. The basilisk heard him and struck blindly, its mouth wide open. Taking his chance, Harry plunged the sword deep into the snake's mouth all the way to the hilt. It pierced the snake's brain, killing it instantly. With a hiss, the basilisk rolled over and crashed on the floor, bringing him with it.

When Harry crashed on the floor painfully, he noticed something. A fang was stuck to his forearm below his elbow. He didn't even have the strength to stand up. White hot pain was spreading throughout his body. Tears began to well in his eyes as realised that he was going to die.

"Tsk, tsk," Riddle clicked his tongue as he walked closer, a smirk on his lips. "Oh, how sad. Are you in pain? Do you feel lightheaded? Is there anything I can do?" He laughed softly. "You'll be dead in seconds, Harry Potter. Remember now that this is what happens to those who oppose Lord Voldemort. Say that to your dear Mudblood mother when you see her. No one can stop me from conquering the world – not even the precious _Boy-Who-Lived_ …"

But he felt better. What was happening? Harry looked down and saw that Fawkes was crying into the wound. Thick tears were falling on the skin where the fang had pierced him, healing him. _Phoenix tears!_

"Get away, bird!" snarled Riddle. Harry's eyes caught sight of the diary several feet away. Wandlessly summoning it, he took the basilisk fang in his hand and plunged it into the pages.

"NO!" screamed Riddle, but that as the last thing he said before there was a scream from the diary. Ink poured out of it like blood as Riddle vanished after withering and screaming, and suddenly, the Chamber was silent.

"Thank you, Fawkes," said Harry softly as he stroked the beautiful feathers of the phoenix. "I owe you my life. I really was reckless coming down here alone, but thank you for having my back."

Fawkes trilled happily, but Harry smirked slightly. "This still doesn't change anything, though. I still hate your companion."

The magical bird trilled again, apparently not expecting anything else. Harry limped forward towards the basilisk. He removed the sword that was nested in the mouth. He held it up against the light and his eyes widened. On the blade, just below the hit were the words –

 _GODRIC GRYFFINDOR_

"Y-You gave me the sword?" Harry whispered, addressing the Sorting Hat. "I know of my family history. _You_ had the sword all along? Generations of Potters have been searching for it for centuries and Godric had hidden it right under our noses?"

"When Geraldine Gryffindor and Alan Potter had a son, Godric was in a dilemma," the Sorting Hat replied. "He didn't know whether to pass on the Gryffindor family titles and fortune to his grandchild, not sure if his descendants would be worthy of it. However, he finally decided that he would test them, and that his treasures would only pass on to a child of the Potter family who embodied what Hogwarts represented."

The Hat continued, "The only way for any Potter to claim the Gryffindor title and fortune, as you know, is to find his legendary sword. That much is known to the Potters, considering they have been searching for it for the last thousand years; but what you didn't know was that it wasn't a game of hide and seek. Godric entrusted me with the sword and told me to present it to someone of his blood who I felt was worthy. I have sorted generations of Potters into all four Houses of Hogwarts. Many of them were exceptional, but I waited. Today, however, I present the sword to you. You embody the true heritage of Hogwarts – bravery, loyalty, intelligence and ambition. You truly believed that Salazar could not have been evil, and that was what made me finally choose you. You are unique, Harry Potter. I have never encountered anyone like you before. You are truly worthy of bearing Godric's family name. Welcome back, Lord Gryffindor."

A sheen of golden light formed on the surface of the sword and Harry felt an aura wash over him. Golden light enveloped him and after a few seconds, the magic seeped into his skin as a ring appeared on his left ring finger. It was a large ruby placed on a gold band with a lion on it. He had gained the Gryffindor title; something which his ancestors had been trying for centuries.

"Thank you, Hat," said Harry sincerely.

"I am merely doing my job," said the Hat. A few seconds later, Harry heard a groan. He turned to his left and saw Ginny Weasley waking up. His face became impassive again. He tried to ignore it, but couldn't help but be annoyed with the girl. She was a pureblood; shouldn't she know that a diary such as that was dangerous? While he could admit that she was just a naïve eleven-year-old girl, he couldn't help but feel that if she hadn't been so stupid, all of this could have been avoided.

Ignoring the babbling girl and supremely unbothered by her distress, Harry picked up the Sorting Hat and sword and magically attached them to his belt. Delicately grasping Fawkes' feathers with one hand while taking Weasley's hand with the other, they escaped the Chamber through the pipes. When they emerged, they saw Professors McGonagall and Flitwick there, with their wands raised.

"Oh, thank Mother Magic you're all right!" said McGonagall shakily. "We were informed by Myrtle that you went into the Chamber, Potter, and we were trying to come after you, but the wards wouldn't budge. Come on, your godfather and Miss Weasley's parents and are in the Headmaster's office."

"Perhaps it is better to take them to the hospital wing, Minerva," Professor Flitwick interrupted as the sink sealed shut behind him as Harry closed it with a Parseltongue command.

"What?" McGonagall blinked in confusion as Fawkes disappeared in a flash of flame. "Oh yes, come on, you two. Let's get you to Poppy."

Harry was still feeling dizzy as he limped along. The pain was unbearable now that he had nothing else to focus on. When they reached the hospital wing, they saw that the petrified students had been revived. Daphne was sitting on her bed with her parents by her side, wearing a stony expression on her face.

"Poppy!" cried Flitwick. "We need you here!"

Madam Pomfrey came over and led them over to a bed. The other students were all looking at them, wondering what was going on. Just when she finished scanning Ginny, the doors burst open and they all heard a screech.

" _Ginny_!" screamed Molly Weasley as she ran towards them, grabbing her daughter in a tight hug. "You – you saved her!"

She turned towards Harry to hug him as well, but a shield materialised in front of her, pushing her back. Molly Weasley's face turned red with anger when she spotted Elizabeth Greengrass with her wand raised.

"Who do you think you are?" she screeched.

"He is not comfortable with strangers hugging him," Elizabeth replied, unfazed. "As for who I am, I'm his future mother-in-law. Now if you would kindly let Madam Pomfrey treat him, it would be greatly appreciated."

Harry smiled gratefully at her. Just then, Sirius, Amelia, two of her Aurors and Dumbledore arrived as well.

"The threat of the Chamber of Secrets has been neutralised," said Harry quietly. Madam Pomfrey hissed next to him as she scanned him.

"What the hell happened down there?" she exclaimed. "You have fractured bones, a concussion, internal bleeding, and trauma to the skull and spine. You have also been poisoned, but I can't tell by what because it has already been neutralised ..."

"You were bitten?" yelped Daphne, looking horrified.

"The poison is basilisk venom," said Harry, making people gasp and Dumbledore grimace. "Don't worry; the basilisk is dead."

"You need to be healed!" Madam Pomfrey yelled hysterically. Sirius was looking frantic. "The poison reacts too fast –"

"It has been neutralised, as you said. Fawkes cried into the wound. Here, this was what caused the Chamber of Secrets to open in the first place."

He gave the diary to Dumbledore who looked at it with keen eyes. "It was Voldemort's sixteen-year-old self, Professor," said Harry quietly.

"Brilliant," said Dumbledore softly. He never thought that Tom would make one of his Horcruxes into a weapon such as this. It was quite unconventional. He was beyond happy that a Horcrux had been identified and destroyed. He would most definitely ensure that Harry was rewarded for this. Perhaps an award for special services to the school would suffice?

"I'll need to vanish your clothes, Potter," she said. With a flick of his wand, Harry's uniform vanished and he was lying there in his underwear. "Miss Greengrass, could you please scrub him clean while I heal him? We don't want any residual poison on his skin."

"Of course," Daphne said quickly as she took the sponge from her, carefully wiping his body with it.

"I would like to see the memory of the event, if you would please, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Later, Albus," Madam Pomfrey snapped, looking annoyed. "He's been through a terrible ordeal and is suffering from magical exhaustion. Potter needs time to heal."

"No, it's alright, Madam Pomfrey," said Harry tiredly. Pointing his wand to his head, he removed the memory just as Dumbledore passed him a phial.

"I know that I was wrong in suspecting you, my boy, but I have to tell you that I am incredibly proud of you," Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he accepted the memory.

"Sirius," he murmured, motioning his godfather to come closer, ignoring the Headmaster. When he did, Harry gripped his locket and a privacy bubble formed around them.

"It was Lucius Malfoy," said Harry quietly. "He was behind it all."

"How can you tell?" asked Sirius sharply.

"See that diary? I recognise it. Lucius placed it in Ginny Weasley's cauldron after he and Arthur Weasley fought in Flourish and Blotts last year. The memory is not clear, but I know what I saw. There was also an incident with his house-elf, Dobby. The elf repeatedly came to warn me about danger at Hogwarts and that I should go home. Lucius was also responsible for Hagrid getting arrested and Dumbledore getting suspended. He planted the diary, I'm sure of it. It belonged to Voldemort and Lucius was one of his high-ranking Death Eaters, wasn't he?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Positive," said Harry confidently.

"Then I believe I should pay dear Lucius a visit!"

"When you negotiate with him, can you get his elf Dobby freed?" he asked hopefully. "The little guy risked his life to help me and I don't want him killed by Lucius in his anger."

"I'll see what I can do," Sirius replied quietly. "Rest for now, son. I'll be back soon, alright?"

Harry nodded as his head hit the pillow, feeling butterflies in his stomach when he heard Sirius refer to him as his son. Amelia finished speaking to Ginny Weasley. When Dumbledore wasn't looking, Harry discreetly gave her a copy of the memory.

"Don't let him see it," whispered Harry. "This has a little extra to it and I have plans for this."

Amelia nodded as she put it inside her large robes. She was five months pregnant at this point, but her robes hid her belly. Telling them that she would be back later for any further inquiries, she and the two Aurors left the hospital wing. Dumbledore was still looking at the diary as he made his way out of the room as well.

"Tippy," Harry called out quietly. When the elf appeared, he said, "Take this sword and fang and place it in the vault in my study, will you?"

"Yes, Master," Tippy said happily as she left with the items.

"I'm alright," he said softly, addressing the elder Greengrasses. "I'm just tired."

"Don't ever scare us like that again," Elizabeth whispered worriedly, placing a gentle kiss on his head.

Harry felt a rush of emotion as he looked at her with affection. "I'll try," he told her, wearing a small smile. But that was the last he said before the dreamless sleep potion took effect and he was out like a light.

As they walked out of Hogwarts, Cyrus looked at his wife. "He is warming up to us, isn't he?"

Elizabeth nodded and smiled.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Lucius Malfoy had just finished negotiating with his business partner in France. When he came back to the villa he owned in the middle of a vineyard in Northern France, Dobby appeared in front of him.

"Master, Lord Black is here to see you," said Dobby, shakily.

"What?" said Lucius sharply. Pursing his lips, he said, "Show him in. And Dobby? _Crucio_!"

A jet a red light impacted the elf for a second, making him shriek in pain. Shakily, he popped away and a few minutes later, Lord Sirius Black was escorted into the drawing room, impeccably dressed as always. Lucius hated the fact that there was going to be a new male heir for the House of Black. There was absolutely no way for Draco to inherit the title and fortune now.

"Lucius, how have you been?" asked Sirius cheerfully as he sat down in an armchair opposite to the man.

Malfoy's lip curled. "Sirius," he greeted him. "I didn't know you were in France."

"Oh, until a few hours ago, I wasn't. But I had some important matters to deal with, so while I was here, I thought I could visit my favourite cousin!"

Lucius waited for a while as Sirius stared into the fire. "Do you, by any chance, recognise the name Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

"What?" snapped Lucius, but his eyes bulged out. How had this man come across that name? The Dark Lord had ensured that there were no traces of it. He himself had erased all knowledge about the Dark Lord's past in the Ministry archives, leaving only the barest essentials behind.

"Yes, Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort." Sirius barked out a laugh. "Dear Merlin, who would have guessed that the Dark Lord was nothing more than a _filthy Mudblood_?"

Lucius clenched his hands in fury. How dare Black call the Dark Lord a Mudblood? His Lord was the heir of Salazar Slytherin! He was incredibly powerful, so it was easy to ignore his less than savoury heritage. Very few people actually knew about it. He and Barty Crouch Junior had known, and Lucius knew that his father Abraxas and the others in the generation like Thaddeus Nott and Randolf Lestrange also knew about it. The other Death Eaters were blissfully unaware, just like the Dark Lord wanted it.

That was not to say that others had not tried to reveal the information to the public. Albus Dumbledore had tried to get the information printed in the _Daily Prophet_ but the Dark Lord had personally tortured and killed the editor, Dorcas Meadows, one of the old headmaster's supporters and member of the Order of the Phoenix, before that edition of the newspaper was printed. After that, the paper changed ownership and Dumbledore had no control over it again.

Lucius was a believer in the pureblood cause, true, but it didn't really matter that their Lord wasn't pure because he was the leader who fought for the rights of purebloods. That was enough. Besides, being Salazar's heir was sufficient to gain the respect of many.

"I have some information here, Lucius," said Sirius as he opened a small notebook. "This book has been in my family for centuries and it is quite useful in times of need. Do you want to know what it says?"

Lucius Malfoy could feel sweat forming on his brow. He knew that the book wasn't the original; Merlin knows Black wasn't that stupid to remove the infamous book filled with blackmail material from his vault. This was probably for theatrics, but he wondered what he had in the original book. He knew of several families that had suffered because of the information that generations of Blacks had collected.

There was a reason the House of Black was considered one of the most powerful families in Magical Europe. Even now, Lucius wondered how they did it. The Head of House ring gleaming at him from Sirius' finger really did not help any.

"Let us take a brief history lesson, shall we?" Sirius smirked. "There were several Most Ancient and Noble Houses in our country centuries back, but many of them are now, unfortunately, extinct. The Most Ancient Houses are the oldest families in Magical Britain, dating back to the time of King Arthur of the Royal House of Pendragon, the last magical king of Britain. In fact, King Arthur was the last magical king in the world. All other major magical dynasties – Narmer of Ancient Magical Egypt, the line of Qin of Ancient Magical China, the Akkadians of Ancient Magical Mesopotamia, and the Ikshvaku Clan of Ancient Magical India ... _all of them_ had been replaced by Muggle emperors."

Lucius wondered where he was going with this. His grey eyes were narrowed and he gripped the handle of his cane.

"The Most Ancient and Noble Houses like Black, Potter, Peverell, Nott, Greengrass, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Longbottom, Smith, Ollivander, Lestrange and several other now-extinct families were all once serving under King Arthur in his court at Camelot. Once the king died, Lord Myrddin entrusted the future of the magical world to us, through the Wizard's Council – the Wizengamot."

"The royal line ended with Arthur, but an offshoot Muggle line ascended to the throne. Witches and wizards did not like serving a Muggle, but it continued. A few centuries passed and there was the Norman invasion of England which brought about families like yours to Magical Britain. That's where this book comes in," said Sirius, acting as though he was reading the said book. "Interesting … so the land on which Malfoy Manor sits was presented to you by a _Muggle_? It seems Armand Malfoy was quite close to the then Muggle king – Willam, I'm told. I also have proof that later in the sixteenth century, Lucius Malfoy, a man you were named after, had very close contact with Queen Elizabeth I. He was courting her, wasn't he? Then there is evidence that for centuries you curried favour with the Muggle royals, interacting with them."

Lucius' face was pale. This information was something which the Malfoy family had gone to great lengths to suppress, with all the evidence destroyed. _How_ had the Blacks gotten their hands on it?

"The Muggle royals came under a lot of fire when they refused to help witches and wizards, leading to the formation of the International Statute of Secrecy," Sirius continued. "All over the world, the Muggle Royal Houses are hated for the way they, directly and indirectly, led to the slaughter of countless witches and wizards in their bid to keep us downtrodden."

"If this information gets out, Lucius, the downfall of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy is imminent. People still haven't forgotten the atrocities committed by the Royals against witches and wizards. Mother Magic herself does not favour them. That's why there has not been a single Muggle-born in their families anywhere in the world even though all of them, however distantly, had magical ancestors."

"What do you want?" said Lucius, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

"How _dare_ you try to endanger my son's life?" hissed Sirius angrily. "How dare you use one of Voldemort's little trinkets to open the Chamber of Secrets and put innocent children in danger? Did you think we would not figure it out?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Lucius replied smoothly, wondering what Sirius was talking about in referring to Harry Potter as his son.

"Cut the crap Lucius, I saw you put the diary in Ginny Weasley's cauldron in Flourish and Blotts. That diary possessed that girl and unleashed a basilisk inside Hogwarts, petrifying Muggle-borns and nearly killing the heiress of House Greengrass and the heir of Houses Potter and Black! You fool! If Harry or Daphne had died, do you think Cyrus Greengrass or I would have let you go scot-free? We would have hunted you down and killed you! I'm quite tempted to do it now, anyway!"

" _Basilisk_?" yelped Lucius, his eyes wide. The Dark Lord had never said anything about that! He only said that it would cause the Chamber of Secrets to open, getting rid of the filthy Muggle-borns in the school.

"Yes, you fool, a basilisk!" snapped Sirius. "My godson had to kill a bloody basilisk! Do you have any idea what would happen to you if people found proof of your involvement? You would be awarded the Dementor's kiss! The International Confederation of Wizards would have you utterly destroyed for putting thousands of children in danger by unleashing the deadliest magical creature known to wizard-kind, and nothing and no one would then help you."

Malfoy was white as a sheet. He had put his own son in danger. There had been a basilisk roaming in the bowels of Hogwarts and he had been unaware of it. He had put his own son in danger in the process. If something had happened to Draco ... he didn't even want to think about it. The boy may be spoiled, but Lucius and Narcissa loved him dearly.

"I haven't even mentioned the other part," said Sirius calmly, leaning back. "I can also disown Narcissa from the House of Black and brand her a blood traitor. It won't amount to much, but how do you think she would handle it? I can demand the dowry paid by my family to be repaid with interest and further compensation for putting the Heir Black, my godson, in mortal danger. You are rich, Lucius, but you are nowhere close to the Potters or the Blacks in terms of gold and I can _utterly_ destroy you. Do you think you can survive the financial and political ramifications of this move? How would you like to be compared to the Weasleys?"

Lucius was bat shit furious at this point, but Sirius held the cards. One wrong move on Malfoy's part and everything the man held dear would be gone.

"What do you want?"

Sirius smirked. "Good. I'm glad that the art of negotiation isn't lost in you, Lucius. Let's start with your seat on the Hogwarts Board of Governors ..."


	13. A new ally

**_Chapter 13_**

 ** _A New Ally_**

The next morning, Harry woke up, feeling a weight on his body. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see Daphne sleeping next to him, with an arm and leg wrapped around him, her head on his chest. He paused and wondered why he wasn't freaking out by the close contact, but on a subconscious level, Harry knew that he had become quite comfortable with Daphne. He didn't mind this at all. He looked at her sleeping face and couldn't help but smile. She looked so peaceful and angelic and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He slowly stroked her dark blonde hair as he watched her sleep.

Five minutes later, Daphne stirred, feeling quite good and rejuvenated. She cuddled closer for warmth as she enjoyed Harry's fingers stroking her hair. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Oh, Merlin, she was supposed to get up before Harry regained consciousness! She didn't know if he would be comfortable with this. She didn't want to leave him alone last night so she had simply climbed into bed with him. Daphne hesitantly looked up into the smiling face of her fiancé.

"Good morning," whispered Harry as he stroked her face with his fingers. "Comfortable?"

" _Ahem_ – I was, you know –"

"I don't know about you, but I'm very comfortable."

"Are you really?" smiled Daphne.

"Oh, yes," Harry murmured as he nuzzled his face against hers. "I wouldn't mind being here all day. Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"

"You missed me?" she teased good-naturedly. "What are you saying, Potter? Do you actually feel something? I thought you were made of ice."

"Only for you, Greengrass," Harry chuckled, hugging her tightly. He couldn't help but want to keep her close. Her sweet scent was intoxicating. Daphne soon interrupted the silence.

"Why did you go down to the Chamber, Harry? You could have gotten someone to help you and –"

But she was cut off as Harry pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. Their lips brushed each other for several seconds.

"I couldn't stand the fact that you were attacked," said Harry honestly. "I wanted revenge. I wasn't thinking straight, I admit. But it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"Doesn't discount the fact that you nearly died, you idiot," Daphne hissed angrily. "You should have –"

But she was interrupted when Harry kissed her again. "I'll keep doing that until you stop being mad at me."

"I should be mad at you more often," said Daphne, flushing as she buried her face in his chest.

"I'm planning on showing the memory of what happened there in the Great Hall, in front of everyone," said Harry quietly. "I doubt the staff will stop me, but if we encounter resistance, can you help me?"

"Of course," she smiled at him. "What are best friends for?"

"I think you are turning into something more than just a friend, Daph."

"Why, Potter, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" asked Daphne, her lips quirking in a teasing smirk.

Harry smirked. "Doesn't being betrothed make us skip that part?"

"Who cares? So, again – are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Daphne, will you marry me?" asked Harry cheekily.

"You've already asked me that and I said yes by wearing this ring," Daphne sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "You're so frustrating!"

"Alright, alright! Daphne Greengrass, would you do me the honour of being my girlfriend? Not that you have much of a choice, but still ..."

"Way to ruin the moment by your sarcastic comments. Hmm, let me think ..."

"Think? But what do you need to think about? I'm better than anyone in the world!"

"And why is that? I need an explanation before I consider you worthy, Potter!"

"Well, I'm smart ... I'm a duelling champion ... the scion of the Potter family ... the Boy-Who-Lived ... an international celebrity ..."

"Oh, quite full of yourself, aren't you, Potter? I wonder where all this is coming from. This is quite unlike you!"

"Well, you know what they say ..."

"No, what do they say?" asked Daphne curiously.

"How should I know? I thought you might know something to finish that sentence!"

Daphne groaned, shaking her head. Soon, laughs and squeals could be heard as a ticking war began, leaving them laughing and breathing hard.

"You're the best, Daphne," whispered Harry as he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "I'm glad that you came into my life."

"Same here," Daphne murmured as sleep claimed her too.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

That night at dinner, Harry and Daphne walked into the Great Hall, hand in hand. The entire Hall was silent as the two of them sat along with their friends at the end of the Slytherin table.

"There have been wild theories going around the school," said Tracy. "No one knows what to believe and the teachers are quite tight-lipped about the whole affair."

"Yeah, I thought they would say something, but I guess they don't want to own up to their mistakes," said Theo Nott as he helped himself to food.

"Maybe you can show them a memory of the event, Harry," said Daphne casually. "That way you can stop the speculation. I'm sure the Headmaster wouldn't mind?"

Since the Hall was silent, several people heard what Daphne said and whispers began going around the House tables. Dumbledore's beard twitched and his eyes began twinkling as he realised what the two had planned. Yes, this would work perfectly.

"I don't know ... nearly the entire school, not to mention the country branded me a Dark Lord in the making ... I'm actually thinking of not coming back next year."

Blaise Zabini had to hold back a laugh as he caught Harry's eye. He was playing them all!

"What?" said Blaise, acting as though he was shocked. "Y-You can't, Harry! Don't you think it's a bit excessive?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged as people listened to him intently. "But I've tolerated enough hippogriff shit from the people here, Blaise. What makes you think they'll believe me now even if I show them the memory? They'll probably think I'm lying and I don't want to be branded a liar as well as a Dark Lord."

"Oh, come off it," said Theo, shaking his head. "Memory tampering to such an extent is not possible even for a very skilled Occlumens and for your age, it's impossible to do so. There are always traces, from what I've been told. But it's your decision."

" _Ahem_ , Potter?" said a hesitant voice.

"Yes, Pucey?"

Adrian Pucey cleared his throat. "I may not have personally been the cause of your misery, but I do wish to formally apologise on behalf of all the Slytherins. Shunning you as we did, even if our House was divided was not something which should have been done. You're a Parselmouth and that ability should have been revered by us, not the other way around. So, I was hoping – you know –"

"What he is trying to say is that we were hoping we could see the memory," said Draco Malfoy's drawling voice.

"Do you all want to?" asked Harry, acting surprised. When he got several nods from the Slytherins, he called for a house-elf which brought him his Pensieve.

"Headmaster do I have your permission in showing everyone what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Of course, Mr Potter," answered Dumbledore, smiling at the young boy. He really couldn't fault Harry for trying to get his credibility back because it was something he would have done himself. He still remembered his Hogwarts days when people used to point and whisper at him when his father had been thrown in Azkaban, so if Harry was innocent, he wouldn't stop him from letting others know. He had to hand it to Harry; it was executed rather well. Albus had seen the memory in his Pensieve ... finally, Voldemort's true heritage would be released to the press. The last time he had tried that ... he didn't even want to go there. Dorcas Meadows' death would finally not have been in vain.

The Pensieve glowed, with three-dimensional images forming above it. The memory began.

Everyone watched in silence as Harry talked to Myrtle and then opened the Chamber entrance with the use of Parseltongue. They saw him walk through the dark tunnel and enter the Chamber proper. People gasped when they finally saw what the legendary chamber looked like. It certainly had been preserved over the last thousand years. They saw Harry talking to Tom Riddle and many screamed when Harry said 'Voldemort.'

Harry mentally smirked when he saw Dumbledore's eyes narrow in suspicion.

Memory tampering was indeed quite difficult, even for a very advanced Occlumens, but selective memory recall was not. Harry could not even begin to attempt memory tampering, but he could recall part of the memory and not the rest while he extracted it, thus not giving Dumbledore the information he didn't want him to see – yet. People like Dumbledore and Voldemort who were natural at Legilimency had a much easier time with memory tampering, but Harry's natural talent at Occlumency prevented it. Either way, Harry was quite happy with his work. The memory he had given the headmaster did not contain most of the conversation he had with Riddle or him claiming the Gryffindor title.

They all watched as Harry and Riddle spoke about Ginny opening the Chamber against her will; about how Daphne had figured out how the basilisk moved and Riddle trying to kill her but Daphne's prudence saved her life ... they watched Riddle say how similar he and Harry were ... there were many stunned faces when Riddle revealed himself as a half-blood and that Voldemort was only a made up name. It certainly debauched people's claims of him being a pureblood when they saw the anagram. To think that the Dark Lord, the person who spouted pureblood propaganda and even killed for it – was the son of a Muggle!

Dumbledore grimaced when Harry's childhood was brought up. Beside him, he could hear Minerva gasp and glare at him. She hadn't known about the abuse and she certainly had warned him against them but he hadn't listened. He mentally frowned when he listened to the next part of Harry's conversation with Riddle.

Many were stunned when Harry revealed a theory about how he survived. Lily Potter having dabbled in the Dark Arts to save her son's life was a monumental revelation and people didn't know what to think about that. Snape looked smug but Dumbledore was frowning heavily. He had thought that Harry had survived because of the power of love, but obviously, that was not true. He would need to get that journal and Lily's notes about the ritual. He wanted to know more about it.

The duel between Harry and Riddle was awe-inspiring for many. Professor McGonagall was overjoyed at Harry's Transfiguration skills and Snape had to grudgingly admit that Harry's knowledge of the spells which were most definitely considered dark by many was good. Flitwick was bouncing in his seat at the outstanding charmwork and everyone cheered when the daggers impacted Riddle, only to gape in shock when nothing happened to him. The fight with the basilisk was terrifying to watch and when Harry stabbed the snake, people screamed in fright. Madam Pomfrey had buried her face in her hands as Harry was slowly poisoned by the deadliest venom on the planet. The entire school exploded in cheers once Harry had destroyed the diary.

Harry had to try very hard to conceal his smirk when everyone realised that the sword belonged to Godric Gryffindor. While it was true that the Potters had not actively suppressed the knowledge that they were descendants of Godric, they didn't advertise it either. It was known only in influential circles in the nobility while the common folk were blissfully unaware of it. So it was quite a shock when they all heard the Sorting Hat tell them that Godric Gryffindor's only daughter had married a Potter.

The ring appearing on his finger had Dumbledore closing his eyes in frustration. Why did things have to get more difficult? Even the information about the Dursleys was manageable, but not this! The fact that Harry was the future Lord Gryffindor would get the liberal faction of the Wizengamot flocking to him! How was Dumbledore supposed to be their leader if they looked up to someone else? He would have to do damage control. Sirius Black already had a grip on the traditionalist faction, Cyrus Greengrass was the leader of the centrists and if Harry had this level of influence over the liberals ... he would have to think things through because this could have political repercussions.

When Dumbledore was thinking and the rest of the teachers were celebrating, Severus Snape was mentally scowling. Things had been so good over the past year. He had thought that James Potter's brat was the one attacking the Muggle-borns. He had dreamt happily about the day the boy would finally be taken to Azkaban and he could gloat to Sirius Black. But now, the boy had to go and do this!

"Potter, I think it is time you give the artefact back to the school," said Snape silkily, his voice echoing throughout the Great Hall.

Dumbledore snapped out of his trance. He looked at Snape with his eyebrows raised. Surely Severus was not that desperate to get his revenge on the boy? He should know better! As Headmaster, he knew of the laws surrounding the founding families and he was positive that there was no way that sword was leaving the hands of the Potter family. He should know – James Potter had demanded an Unbreakable Vow just to borrow the Peverell Invisibility Cloak!

"What artefact?" asked Harry, looking at Snape with a straight face. "The Sorting Hat has been returned to the Headmaster."

Dumbledore's beard twitched in amusement, but before he could intervene, Snape said in a dangerous voice, "Five points from Ravenclaw, Potter, for your cheek! I'm talking about the sword! Gryffindor's sword! It belongs to Hogwarts, so return it!"

"And who in Merlin's name told you that Gryffindor's sword belongs to Hogwarts?"

"It says so in Hogwarts, A History," answered Hermione Granger imperiously. "It's the legendary artefact of Godric Gryffindor and since he is one of the founders of Hogwarts, it belongs to the school."

Harry's face remained impassive as he spoke, "Hogwarts, A History is the most biased book I have ever read in my life. I'm pretty sure it was written by a Gryffindor who looked down upon the other three Houses. As for the founders' artefacts, let's ask Smith, shall we? Hey, Smith, what are the laws governing the founding families and Hogwarts?"

Zacharias Smith's eye twitched in annoyance at the Hufflepuff table. He really did not like Potter and he did not appreciate the boy bringing unwanted attention to him in the middle of the Great Hall, but he would be damned if Snape were to start spouting nonsense about seizing founders' artefacts. His family would never agree to that and he knew that Potter wouldn't either.

"The founding families are different and separate entities from Hogwarts," said Smith imperiously. "The descendants of the founders cannot own the castle and similarly, any money and artefacts of the founding families have nothing to do with Hogwarts. This is a school, not a museum."

"And would you be willing to return any artefacts that you have that belong to Helga Hufflepuff?" asked Harry casually.

Smith scowled. "No. Didn't you hear what I just said, Potter? These laws are something that should have been taught to you considering our unique position. You should know them."

"Oh, I certainly know them, but I was asking you to explain it to Professor Snape and Miss Granger here. Long story short – the sword is Potter family property and no one can take it away from us. If you have any doubts about the veracity of that claim, Professor Snape, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore or Lord Smith would be more than happy to explain it to you. I would explain it to you as well, but you never believe anything I say, so it is counterproductive."

Snape's lip curled but he didn't say anything. He thought for sure that he would be able to embarrass Potter by doing this publicly, but it didn't turn out that way. Well, the brat wasn't going anywhere. He would get an opportunity in the future to take that boy down a peg or two. He was a Slytherin; he was nothing if not patient.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Unfortunately, Dumbledore was not the only one who was panicking about Harry's new title; word had quickly gotten to the heads of several families of nobility, not to mention the Ministry of Magic as well and _someone_ in the Ministry, who went by the title of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, had decided to do something about it even before the Chief Warlock attempted to do anything.

Rita Skeeter quickly re-read the letter in her hand. It said quite clearly that Harry Potter was _lying_ about what had happened to bolster his own fame after the disastrous article which revealed him to be a Parselmouth. The anonymous person had promised to give her five hundred Galleons if she could make a bad article appear in the Daily Prophet about Potter's involvement in the Chamber of Secrets and his refusal in giving back a priceless artefact such as Gryffindor's sword back to the Ministry where it belonged, not to mention line-theft in saying that he was the future Lord Gryffindor.

 _Humph_ ; as if a twelve-year-old boy could defeat a basilisk! Now, what would be the most catching headline? She chuckled.

"Boy-Who-Lived turns Boy-Who-Lied," Rita murmured to herself happily as she looked through the information she had. "Harry Potter – The next Dark Lord? Yes, that's a good secondary headline, or should it be first? Hmm ..."

Just as Rita touched the quill, it glowed blue and started spinning. She shrieked; how was there a Portkey in her office? She went to great lengths to ensure that she was not tracked or kidnapped. Merlin knows she had a lot of enemies, especially powerful people so it was essential. When Rita landed, she saw that she was sitting in a very regal looking study. Rich wooden slabs adorning the walls with gold-framed paintings, floor to ceiling windows, and a thick carpet on the marble flooring with a large, richly decorated mahogany desk in front of her – all this made her realise that whoever kidnapped her was very, very wealthy. She was also magically bound and gagged. What was going on here?

"Hello, Rita," said a voice. The dim lighting charms became brighter and she felt her chair turn in the opposite direction. There were two armchairs in front of the large fireplace where she saw, much to her shock, Lord Sirius Black and Harry Potter.

"Nice headline you were going for," said Harry wryly looking at the sheet of parchment. "The Boy-Who-Lies? Catchy."

"Tsk, tsk, you really do play with the big fish, don't you, Rita?" Sirius smirked. "You have written a few articles that I really didn't like. Questioning my sanity, Harry's Parselmouth status, the article about the Potter-Greengrass betrothal ..."

"Looks like she is angry, godfather … shall we make her talk?"

Sirius flicked his wand at her and the gag disappeared. "Let go of me!" Rita cried hysterically.

"Hello Rita, welcome to my family's ancestral castle," Harry greeted her with a small smile, though his eyes were an angry shade of blackish-green.

"What do you want? Why did you kidnap me?" snarled Rita. She tried to shift in her seat but screamed painfully.

"That is a darker version of the anti-Animagus ward created by the Black family," said Sirius, sipping from a glass of firewhisky. "We don't want you turning into a water-beetle to escape, do we?"

Rita's face turned pale. How did they know? She swallowed in fear when she realised who Sirius Black was married to.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not calling my wife here," said Sirius as he smirked darkly at her. "But I will call her if the negotiations fail."

"What negotiations?" the reporter asked shakily.

Harry waved his hand and a sheet of parchment floated in front of her. "My godfather and I are now the owners of the _Daily Prophet_ ," he explained. "Tomorrow, the _Daily Prophet_ is going to be dissolved to form the new _Magical Daily_ Press. All the employees of the _Daily Prophet_ are going to be assimilated into the new company. Of course, we were wondering what to do with you. If you are willing to work for us, then you'll get all the perks of the job. If you don't, then we could always hand you over to the D.M.L.E."

"Trust me, you have made a lot of enemies in the Wizengamot," said Sirius dangerously. "You have been actively using your Animagus form to spy on people. Let me tell you now that you would get no less than five years in Azkaban for the number of laws that you've broken. Take it from a person who spent ten years in a high-security cell, it's not paradise. I will never recover from my ordeal. It has scarred me forever, changing me as I had to spend ten years reliving my worst memories day after day. You'll probably go insane within a few months of being there. We are giving you a better alternative."

"Which is what?" asked Rita nervously.

"Glad you asked," said Sirius, smiling widely. "This is the contract we want you to sign."

Rita read through the contact and her eyes bulged out of its sockets. "NO! This contact gives me no escape clause! I'll be a lifetime employee and it gives you too much control over me! I can never write what I want and I cannot divulge your secrets."

"Rita, Rita, Rita," purred Harry, coming closer to her, his green eyes glinting dangerously. "Don't think we are not capable of forcing you to do this. We're being nice, you know. Your salary will increase and you get all the perks of the job. Trust me, one way or another we're getting rid of the threat that is you. Don't be an idiot. You can go back to your life without any problems. If you piss us off today, you'll end up next to a Dementor. You have five minutes to make a decision."

Five minutes later, Rita sighed. She knew it was her fault for playing with the big fish. She had forgotten the first rule of nature – there is always someone more powerful than you.

"Where do I sign?"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Once Rita was gone, Sirius smirked as he looked at the contract. Duplicating it, he gave one to his godson and kept handed the original copy to his house-elf so that it could be kept safe in his study. They now controlled the biggest and most popular media outlet in Magical Britain.

"How was the meeting with Lucius Malfoy?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius' face turned an angry red. "That fool didn't even know that there was a basilisk at Hogwarts. Can you believe that? Once he realised that his own son had been in danger because of his actions, he was literally white as a sheet! It wasn't until I threatened him with delicate information did he bow down to my demands and trust me, it was not easy negotiating with him and still keep my temper in check! I felt like killing him then and there!"

"So, what did you get out of him?"

"I snatched his seat on the Board of Governors. Combined with your seat as Lord Gryffindor, I will have two with one of them being permanent, so I can make myself the chairman if I'm interested. The majority of the Board is actually filled with traditionalists now after the last reshuffle, so I have a majority. I also got a few very profitable businesses that I wanted, one of them being a potions ingredients farm in Northern France. Finally, I caused a bit of trouble for him with the French Ministry of Magic by leaking some of his shadier deals, so he's currently bribing his way out of there. Also, Dobby!"

The elf popped in front of them. "Lord Black sir," said the elf, his face lighting up. "What can Dobby do for Lord Black?"

"Nothing for me, Dobby, but my godson was the one who wanted you freed from Lucius Malfoy," said Sirius, pointing at Harry.

"Harry Potter sir wanted to free Dobby?" asked the elf tearfully. "Harry Potter is greater than Dobby knew!"

Harry smiled slightly. "You may not have gone about it the right way, but I can't forget the fact that you risked your life to warn me about your master's plot. So I couldn't, with a good conscience, leave you there. So, Dobby, would you like to be my elf?"

Dobby began crying loudly. "It is Dobby's greatest dream to be Harry Potter's elf! Dobby accepts!"

"Good. Go to Potter Castle; Tippy will give you fresh clothes and tell you what you need to do."

"That is all, Dobby," said Sirius, dismissing the elf. Dobby bowed to them and disappeared with a _crack_. The two of them were silent for a while until Sirius looked at his godson with narrowed eyes.

"Don't think you're getting off easy, Harry," he said quietly. "You're in big trouble. I never thought you were this reckless and stupid. Going into the Chamber of Secrets alone, without an adult to help you, knowing that there was a basilisk inside was short-sighted and foolish. Would you mind telling me what you were thinking?"

Harry swallowed slightly as he saw the furious expression on his godfather's face. This was a lot more difficult than explaining it to Daphne. "Sirius, I did want to tell someone," he began, "but I guess I got carried away. I was angry and after I read the information Daphne had found out, I decided to see if her theory was right. When the entrance opened, I decided to go for it. What else could I have done?"

"What else could I have done?" repeated Sirius angrily. "I'll tell you what you _should_ have done. You should have contacted me immediately! This was a bloody thousand-year-old basilisk which turned out to be seventy feet long! No snake in history has been this large and deadly. It could have killed you with one stare alone, and you nearly died there! You were bitten by a _basilisk_ , whose venom is considered the deadliest in the world. If Fawkes had not followed you, I don't even want to think of the consequences. This should have been handled by Ministry experts, not a twelve-year-old boy!"

"I'm nearly thirteen," said Harry quietly.

Sirius snorted at the typical teenage response. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm very disappointed in you, Harry. I expected better from you. I know that you're an exceptional boy and I'm very proud of the way you defeated the basilisk, but can't you see from my perspective? You nearly died, son, and I can't ignore that!"

The butterflies in his stomach returned when Harry heard Sirius refer to him as his son once again. His voice was caught in his throat as he tried to say something, but he couldn't. He was feeling emotions he couldn't identify and that confused him more than anything.

"Right," Sirius nodded to himself. "Your punishment is to clean the stables and dungeons at Black Castle this summer for two weeks – without magic. I've done the same during my childhood and I know how hard it was and how much I hated it. It will give you time to reflect on your actions."

"Two weeks?" asked Harry incredulously. "Without magic?"

"I can always make it three."

Harry opened his mouth but closed it immediately. No, it was futile to argue with Sirius; he knew that from past experience when he had forced Harry to go to a Mind Healer after the Lockhart incident.

Sirius sighed softly as he extended his arms. "Come here, Harry," he said softly.

Harry hesitated, but he sat down next to his godfather who wrapped his arms around him tightly. Having now being used to it, he stiffened only an instant before melting into the embrace.

"I'm not doing this because I enjoy punishing you, Harry," said Sirius quietly. "You should realise what you did wrong and ensure that you learn from your mistakes. Your parents would not have wanted you so unnecessarily risking your life when your future is looking bright. You want to make James and Lily proud, don't you?"

"Of course!"

"Then don't do something this reckless again. You nearly _died_ , Harry, and I can't believe I came this close to losing you. I hope you won't be doing something like this again, son, because I would be severely disappointed if you do."

"Do you really consider me your son?" asked Harry, looking up at his godfather, his voice very soft. He honestly sounded like a small child.

Harry may be a nearly thirteen-year-old boy who was quite mature for his age, but he was also quite abused during his childhood. Those scars had never quite faded from his mind, even if those on his body had disappeared. He still remembered the time he had pined for his parents or anyone else who would take care of him and be a father figure to him that he could look up to. Even as he grew up, he subconsciously still pined for a parental figure who cared about him. Growing up, he had watched as Dudley was constantly showered with attention from his parents. He had seen Aunt Petunia give Dudley loving hugs while he got nothing but scorn and disdain. He could see the proud look in Uncle Vernon's eyes when he saw Dudley, but nothing but anger and hate when he looked at Harry.

The dreams concocted by the then four-year-old boy had never truly vanished in Harry's heart, who still longed to have parents. From reading their journals, he knew that James and Lily Potter had loved him with every inch of their hearts, but it didn't discount the fact that his godfather, Sirius Black, had done everything possible to provide for him over the past year and a half. He had constantly showered Harry with attention and affection, something which Amelia had done as well, both of them coming to the Shrieking Shack nearly every alternate day to teach Harry more magic and spend time with him. The way Sirius had done his best to protect him from the press and the general public, and the affection shining in those haunted grey eyes still moved Harry deeply.

"Of course I consider you my son," said Sirius patiently. "I know that you are James and Lily's son, and I have my own son who is to be born in a few months, but it doesn't discount the fact that I promised your parents and myself that I would take care of you the moment your father placed you in my arms the day you were born. I swore an oath on my magic to always be there for you, Harry, and I will honour that promise till my death. I know that I'm not James or Lily, but I am always here for you when you need me and if that requires me to be strict with you and hand out punishments, that's what I'm going to do."

Harry swallowed thickly as his eyes grew misty. Sirius hugged the teary boy sitting next to him and rubbed his back soothingly.

Harry hugged Sirius tightly as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, long buried emotions resurfacing as he finally reconciled with his childhood, accepting it for what it was, something he had never been able to do. He felt as though a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he put the issue of the Dursleys behind him. The scars would never disappear, but he now had the strength to wear them without hating that part of himself.

"Thanks, Sirius," said Harry softly, wiping his tears away.

"You're welcome, Harry."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Even though Dumbledore had cancelled the exams for the rest of the school, the fifth and seventh-year students still had to finish theirs. Harry was busy studying for his incoming O.W.L.s, so he didn't bother with what was going on outside. The news about the Daily Prophet changing ownership and its shift to the _Magical Daily_ created a storm in Magical Britain. Many were wondering what the hell had happened as they all had vested interest in the largest media outlet in the country. Any and all information pertaining to Frank Olive was accessed by several people, but none of them could find him. Dumbledore was sure that the man was an alias, but he didn't know who actually owned the paper.

The reactions to the headline later were also entertaining to watch. The fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had wielded the Sword of Godric Gryffindor in defence of the school to kill a basilisk caused people to flock to him again, but Harry now knew that fame was fickle. The Gryffindor Lordship had also been announced and once the Department of Mysteries verified his claim, Sirius was made the regent and another vote made its way to the Wizengamot. Many were now feeling ashamed that they had doubted Harry after this revelation and he did receive several letters of apology. Not that he cared anyway.

The news about the abuse Harry suffered at the hands of his Muggle relatives brought massive outrage from the wizarding public. They were all under the impression that he had been living in a magical home and raised happily, but this was not what they had expected. Dumbledore tried his best to talk his way out of it, but his popularity was on the decline. He had suffered setbacks one by one in the course of two years and he didn't have time to regain the trust of the people and this was certainly a massive backlash.

Sirius and Harry were happy about that because from what Blaise Zabini told Harry who had heard from his mother, the news about him had travelled internationally as well. Harry had become more famous for his defeat of a basilisk and Dumbledore's job had become more difficult at the I.C.W. due to it. Child abuse was something the magical world didn't tolerate at all. Children were considered as the sacred blessing of Mother Magic herself and for them to be tortured to such an extent was not something they could accept.

But the biggest reaction yet was the revelation about Voldemort's ancestry. The entire country was spluttering in disbelief about the fact that a man who had torn their country into pieces and killed innumerable witches and wizards who were purebloods, half-bloods or Muggle-born was actually the son of a Muggle!

It didn't have the impact Harry, Sirius and Dumbledore were hoping for, though. Even though Voldemort was a half-blood, the supremacists would still flock to him if he returned to power because Voldemort had just that – power. He had the power to achieve their goals, not to mention they were all terrified of the Dark Lord.

The same could be said about the common public. They were not cowards; far from it. But the last war had been brutal. Anyone caught saying something vocal against the Dark Lord had ended up dead or had disappeared. Anyone trying to fight the Death Eaters would come home and find their entire family dead. So many families had become extinct because of him. Wizengamot members were terrified to vote because they knew they were a major target. By 1991, the death toll had risen to more than two thousand witches and wizards and no one was willing to breathe a word for fear that their families and loved ones would end up dead.

That was how Voldemort had nearly conquered Magical Britain – until he was stopped by the young Harry Potter.

Sirius had also demanded that an Order of Merlin, First Class, be given to James and Lily Potter and another one to Harry Potter for his defeat of the basilisk. If Cornelius Fudge can give himself one, if Peter Pettigrew had been awarded one, if Gilderoy Lockhart was given one (both of which had been rescinded, of course), why not give it to people who actually deserve it?

The awards had been handed to Harry within a week.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: So, how do you like a more parental Sirius Black? He really is one of my most favourite characters, and I really wish he had been given a bigger role in canon. I hate it when he and James are vilified and Snape is made to look innocent._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	14. A new family discovered

**_Chapter 14_**

 ** _A New Family Discovered_**

The O.W.L. exams began in mid-June and Harry was already exhausted from studying so hard. The theory exams were quite easy, but the practical exam, for him especially, was a different matter. It was not that he was being tested differently, but Harry was trying his best to make everything extraordinary. Madam Marchbanks took particular delight in testing him for most of the exams.

"I think you have adjusted to the accelerated program rather well, Mr Potter," said the old woman. "Now, I was wondering if you could vanish this iguana for me."

The Transfiguration exam was wonderful. Harry displayed his talent in inanimate conjuration by creating a throne for himself with the Potter crest clearly displayed on the back. Switching spells were quite easy and he amused his examiners by switching a vase of conjured lilies with his hair. The Charms exam was even better. When Professor Tofty asked him to animate his eggcup and make it do cartwheels, Harry went one step further and with careful concentration, began making the eggcup start dancing after giving it feet. When the eggcup bowed to Tofty after the show, the old man began roaring with laughter.

"Oh, you're quite cheeky, aren't you?" said the old professor fondly. "Yes, your mother did something quite similar when she took her exams. Now, if you could change the colour of this rat ..."

Herbology went reasonably well. Harry knew that it was not his best subject but he was sure that he would get an Outstanding anyway. Defence Against the Dark Arts was absolutely thrilling to show in front of the examiners. Harry took great delight in showing various curses, jinxes and counter-curses, stunning the examiner with his talent in non-verbal magic.

"Oh, bravo!" cried Professor Marchbanks as he conjured a marble stone slab when asked how to defend himself from Unforgivable Curses – an N.E.W.T question, actually, but Harry didn't care. The marble slab took four Reductor curses before it crumbled.

"Outstanding, Potter," she smiled. "Not many of them have the presence of mind to conjure stone in the path of a curse. You may go."

Ancient Runes and Arithmancy were very good as well. Harry took great delight in adding his knowledge about warding in the written papers. He was sure to get extra credit for that. But the best by far was Potions. Harry was supremely calm as he impressed the examiner with his spells which, he realised, other students who were taught by parents who specialised in Potions knew as well. His ingredients were meticulously cut into pieces and he ensured that the timer was set to the second. When he submitted the phials filled with perfect potion samples, he was sure that he would be pursuing the subject after school.

Care of Magical Creatures took place in the afternoon at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the students had to identify the creatures and give them food, demonstrate the correct handling of others and identify the correct food to be given to an injured unicorn. Harry was quite surprised by his ability with magical creatures. The bowtruckle he interacted with during the exam had taken a shining to him.

Astronomy, Muggle Studies and History of Magic were fine. His perfect memory tuned with Occlumency exercises over the years had always helped him remember everything he wanted. The theory exams went well and he was quite happy with them. He also took the Duelling exam which was offered as a choice. Very few people took it, but Harry wanted it. By the time he finished all twelve of the exams, he was exhausted, but supremely happy.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **1st July, 2003**_

 _ **Somewhere in Edinburgh, Scotland**_

"Oh look, it's the freak!" said the older boy jeering at the small frame of the eleven-year-old boy.

"Watch where you're going, freak," said another, forcing the smaller boy to trip on his shoes.

Dylan scrapped his elbow against the hard ground as he tried to control his tears. Even on his birthday, they didn't leave him alone. How he wished he could get away from here!

"Leave me alone," whispered Dylan pleadingly as he got to his feet, but the older boy punched him in the stomach.

"Oh, look, little Dylan here seems to want to talk back," he jeered. "I think it's time we taught him a lesson, don't you think, boys? Let the freak know his place!"

Dylan backed away, looking around for someone to help him, but there was nobody. "Please," he begged. "Just leave me alone."

"Coward!" spat another boy as the rest beat him up. "You stop doing all the freaky things that you do and we'll stop hitting you. We're only helping you become normal like us. Everyone in the orphanage knows of your freakish ways!"

"I don't know what it means!" screamed Dylan as a wave of powerful magic exploded from his body, throwing the boys away from him and onto the street. The bus coming towards the children had to turn sharply to avoid crushing them and that, in turn, led to it crashing into a building.

The young boy, Dylan, was unconscious.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Ma'am, I have important news," said Auror Trainee Tonks as she entered the office of her boss, gasping for breath.

"What is it, Tonks?" asked Amelia, looking up from her paperwork.

"There was a huge burst of accidental magic in Edinburgh," she explained. "The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad found a young wizard beaten quite badly. He seems to have used magic to escape, but it caused quite a scene."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Amelia, confused. "This is a matter that will be taken care of by them. Besides, it is to be handled by the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and Wizarding Children Services. I'm no way involved."

"Normally, I would agree. But I found out the name of the boy who has been taken to St Mungo's. Right now, very few people know the boy's identity, but if the information leaks out, it could mean big trouble. I thought the boy's closest family had to be informed considering his name."

"What's his name?"

Tonks hesitated. "Dylan Lestrange."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Two hours later, Sirius Black and Harry Potter were walking towards the room that housed the boy in St Mungo's Hospital. Both of them were frowning.

"Did Bellatrix and Rodolphus have a child?"

"No," Sirius replied. "I know for a fact that Bellatrix lost her ability to bear children due to a stray curse that destroyed her uterus during a battle in Diagon Alley. The raid she conducted after she found out was pretty horrifying. I'm absolutely sure this boy is not Bellatrix's son. Maybe he is Rabastan's?"

"Or it might be completely random? After all, there are Muggles with the name of Potter, Black, Smith and a few others. It could be a coincidence."

"Maybe … a Gringotts lineage test would give the necessary information. But if he is anything like them ..."

"He's just a child, Sirius," said Harry quietly, but he did agree with his godfather's sentiments. Just as they were about to enter, a Healer stepped out of the room and was startled to see Sirius and Harry there.

"Lord Black, Mr Potter," the wizard nodded respectfully at them. "What can I do for you?"

"We're here to see your newest patient," said Sirius. "I have authorization since he might be – _ahem_ – family. How is he doing?"

"Not well, psychologically speaking," said the Healer grimly. "He thought we were going to kill or torture him. I had to stun the lad before we could heal all his wounds. There are clear signs of long-term abuse. Broken bones, malnutrition, you name it. He'll have to be here for the next week, at least, to fix everything."

"Are you sure he said Lestrange?" asked Harry sharply.

"Yes, Mr Potter," the Healer nodded. "If you want to talk to him, I would advise you to be soothing. He doesn't know about the existence of magic."

Nodding, the two of them slipped through the privacy screens. The adorable looking boy had mousy brown hair with slight curls and looked quite small for his age. At the moment, however, he was sleeping peacefully.

"He's definitely a Lestrange," said Sirius quietly, observing the boy's features critically. "I'd recognise that cleft chin anywhere, but he is not Bellatrix's son. He might be the son of Rabastan."

"What about the mother?"

"We won't know that until we talk to him," said Sirius grimly. "Poor kid; I don't even want to imagine what is going to happen when people find out about this. The Lestranges are quite hated by everyone for what happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom, not to mention the countless other deaths they were responsible for."

"Well, there's no point in just standing here," said Harry quietly. He extended his hand towards the boy and there was a flash of red light from his palm. The boy groaned softly as he opened his grey eyes.

"W-Where am I?" he squeaked out.

"Easy," said Harry gently, surprising his godfather. "You're in a hospital, getting your injuries treated. We found you on a street in Edinburgh. May we know your name?"

The boy swallowed as he looked at the boy who was probably a few years older than him, maybe more. Harry began releasing some of his magic in a comforting way which enveloped the other boy, calming him down.

"Dylan," he said nervously. "Dylan Lestrange."

"It's nice to meet you, Dylan," Harry smiled. "I am Harry Potter, and this is my godfather, Sirius Black. How old are you?"

"Eleven," muttered Dylan. "My birthday is on the first of July."

"Well then, happy birthday, Dylan," said Harry, as he shook the boy's hand, making him gape in shock. No one had ever wished him on his birthday before. "Can you tell us the last thing you remember?"

"I – I was walking back to the orphanage," Dylan answered, swallowing hard. "That's when Tony and the rest started to gang up on me. They always call me a freak and they said that – that – I was to be cured of something. They were beating me up and I wished that they would stop … and then I blacked out. When I woke up, someone was asking me questions, holding a stick. I was scared that they were going to hurt me as they did at the orphanage. I panicked, but I can't recall anything after that."

Harry and Sirius looked at each other. "You said you were going to an orphanage," said Sirius slowly. "Do you live there? Do you know who your parents are?"

"No sir, I don't know who my parents are," he said, shivering slightly. "I was born at the orphanage. My mother died soon after from what I was told. She just named me before she died. I don't know anything else. Who are you?"

Harry took a deep breath. "We're not sure yet, but we're probably your closest living relatives. Don't worry. We're not sending you back to the orphanage."

" _What_?" Dylan gasped, gaping at Harry. "R-Relatives? But–but, I was told I had no family! Why –"

"We didn't even know you existed until a few hours ago, Dylan," said Sirius patiently. "Can you please tell me the name of the orphanage that you grew up in?"

"It's called David's orphanage for children."

"Alright," said Sirius softly. "I'll just have to check something, but while I'm gone, Harry here will explain everything to you. But before I go, will you let me take a drop of your blood?"

"Blood? Why?"

"It is so that we can know who your parents are," said Harry soothingly. "Please, Dylan, it's very important. I'll explain everything to you as soon as Sirius leaves."

Sirius flicked his wand, conjuring a phial. Harry waved a hand over Dylan's palm, slicing a thin line. Dylan was gobsmacked at the display. Once a few drops of blood were taken, Harry healed the wound and Sirius left.

"How – how did you do that?" whispered Dylan.

"It's called magic."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Sirius and Amelia walked inside the orphanage, grimacing at the environment. This did not look like an orphanage which would take care of its children well. It was probably very poorly funded and where bullying was rampant.

"Yes, may I help you?" said the matron as she smiled sweetly at the expensively dressed couple in front of her.

"Yes, we were looking for the person in charge," said Amelia formally.

"That would be me. I'm Mary Jones," she said extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Jones," said Amelia. "I am Agent Bones from the MI5 and this is my partner Agent Black. We'd like to ask you a few questions regarding one Dylan Lestrange."

Miss Jones paused before asking carefully, "What would you like to know?"

"How did he end up at this orphanage?" asked Sirius.

"He was born here," she shrugged. "A teenage girl came here about eleven years ago, heavily pregnant in the evening. It's quite common so we took her in. She seemed to quite unhealthy; probably lived on the streets, poor dear. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy and asked us to name him Dylan Lestrange; yes, Lestrange is a very strange name, isn't it? Anyway, she kept mumbling about revenge and her son being half-blood. I remember it well because the words she used were so weird. May I know what's interesting about him?"

Sirius walked up to the woman and looked into her eyes. While his Legilimency skills couldn't even penetrate the mind of a young wizard, Muggles had no natural shields whatsoever. He went through her memories and found the relevant information. He saw everything that had been done to the boy and was disgusted by it. This only validated Harry's theory – there were indeed more magical children abused by Muggles. Harry wasn't the only one.

"Come on, Amelia," Sirius spat angrily. "We have what we need."

"Wait, where is the boy?" asked Miss Jones.

Amelia pointed her wand at her.

" _Obliviate!_ "

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Thank you for meeting me without an appointment, Ironclaw," Amelia began.

"No problem at all, Lady Black," the goblin replied. "What can I do for you?"

"We were hoping you could identify this boy's parents," Sirius took over as he removed the phial containing a few drops of blood.

"The boy gave us his blood willingly and authorised it," said Amelia swiftly. "This is a matter concerning the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange."

"Indeed?" asked Ironclaw in surprise.

"He was found in Muggle Edinburgh. He's just turned eleven and we need to know if he is related to the Lestranges and who his mother is."

The goblin nodded as he got a small silver bowl. He began mixing several powders and potions inside it. He took the phial and poured the blood into it. Once done, he took a special quill and a parchment shimmering with magic. He dipped the quill into the bowl. After a few seconds, the quill activated and began writing on the parchment. Ironclaw looked at it and nodded grimly.

"It looks like your suspicions were correct," said Ironclaw. "He is the illegitimate child of Rabastan Lestrange."

Sirius and Amelia took the parchment showing the lineage test and looked at it.

 _Name: Dylan Lestrange_

 _Father: Rabastan Lestrange (Pureblood)_

 _Mother: Charlene Cooper (Muggle-born)_

 _Date of Birth: 1st July, 1992_

 _Status: Illegitimate Heir Apparent of the_ _Most Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange_

"He must have raped her," Amelia muttered grimly. "That explains the revenge part."

"And the half-blood part as well," Sirius agreed. "She was a Muggle-born and the Lestranges are pureblood fanatics. She must have thought it would be the ultimate revenge against them."

"I'll check the Ministry archives for anyone named Charlene Cooper. Thank you for your services, Ironclaw."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Dylan laughed with delight as Harry made more things fly across the room, changing colours and conjuring objects.

"This is all so cool! I mean, magic is _real_!"

"I know how you feel," Harry couldn't help but smile. "When I learnt about the existence of magic, I thought I was dreaming. You'll get your Hogwarts letter in a few weeks."

"Are you really thirteen years old, Harry?" asked Dylan in surprise. "You look older to me."

Harry chuckled. "I turn thirteen in a month, actually," he answered. "I'm still technically twelve."

"No way! You look like you're fifteen or sixteen!"

"Magical children develop faster than Muggles, both physically and mentally. And some of us grow faster while others mature slowly. The malnutrition you suffered at the orphanage seems to have stunted your growth. You'll be surprised how fast you'll grow once the healers are done with you."

Dylan paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "Do you really think I'll get a Hogwarts letter?" he asked hopefully.

"Positive."

"Could you tell me more about it?" he asked shyly.

Just as Harry was about to reply, Sirius and Amelia entered the room. "Hello Dylan," Sirius greeted him with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm great, sir!" he said happily. "Harry was just showing me more magic. It's so cool!"

"That's good to know," said Sirius. "Dylan, this is my wife, Amelia. She is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Think of her as the head of a magical version of the U.K.'s Home Office," explained Harry quietly.

Dylan's eyes widened. "Ma'am," he said awkwardly. She was a stern looking woman with short red hair and blue eyes. When he saw her, he knew that she was not to be messed with. She definitely looked the part of an important government employee.

"Hello, Mr Lestrange," Amelia nodded. "We have managed to get some information about your parents. Would you like to know about them?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Dylan excitedly. Harry had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Your father is Rabastan Lestrange and your mother was one Charlene Cooper," said Amelia candidly. There was no point in trying to soft-pedal the truth, as she had an official duty to inform him of the situation. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Your mother was a Muggle-born, meaning a witch or wizard born to non-magical parents. She attended Hogwarts but dropped out in her sixth year when her family was attacked."

"Attacked?" repeated Dylan in shock.

The next ten minutes was spent in explaining about the war with Voldemort. "And so, your mother never returned to Hogwarts. She seems to have gone into hiding in the Muggle world and had you in the orphanage."

"My parents were not married?" asked Dylan, his eyes wide, shaking his head in denial.

"Drink this first," said Harry, giving him a phial of calming draught. "Trust me, it'll help."

After the boy had calmed down, Amelia continued. "All the evidence we have gathered point towards the fact that your father might have – ahem – impregnated your mother without consent. The Gringotts lineage test confirms that they were not married and that you are illegitimate."

"What? There has got to be a mistake!"

"I don't think so, Dylan," said Sirius grimly, "because your father would never have involved himself romantically with a Muggle-born. From what we found out from the orphanage, it is clear that she knew who your father was as well. Thank Merlin he doesn't know about you."

"You mean my father is _alive_?" asked Dylan, horrified. "Why didn't he come and get me?"

"Guys, can I talk to him alone for a minute?" asked Harry quietly. Sirius and Amelia looked at each other and nodded. After they left, Harry sat down on the bed and took the boy's hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze.

"What I am about to tell you might come as a shock," he said slowly as he formed his words. "Dylan, your father is in prison. He has been for the past eleven years. He is a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's most faithful followers. He, his brother Rodolphus and Rodolphus' wife Bellatrix were sent to prison for life. In fact, you are related to Sirius though Bellatrix, by marriage. They are first cousins, you see."

Dylan's lower lip was trembling. Harry sighed as he pulled the younger boy into a tight hug as he cried into his chest. Harry made soothing sounds, rubbing Dylan's back as he silently let the boy vent. He had no idea why he was consoling the newly discovered Lestrange heir, but it reminded him too much of how he had been when he was at the Dursleys. Dylan was obviously in a state of shock and he needed someone. Harry may be cold, but he wasn't heartless.

"M-My dad is a murderer?" he hiccupped.

"There is no sugar-coating it, Dylan," said Harry grimly. "The Lestranges are quite – _ahem_ – disliked by the common wizarding public. That's why we reacted as fast as we did. Your name raised a red alert and we had to keep you safe before someone took advantage of you by feeding you information for their benefit."

"You did the same thing, didn't you?" snapped Dylan. After a few seconds, his eyes brimmed with tears of fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that; please don't be mad at me, Harry!"

"I'm not mad at you," said Harry softly. "I know how you feel. I know that we just met each other a few hours ago, but please, Dylan. Can you trust me? I won't leave you alone. I promise. My life was and is very similar to yours so I can understand you better than anyone. All I am asking is that you give me a chance. Please?"

Grey eyes meet green, looking for any sign of deceit. After a minute, Dylan nodded slowly as more tears flowed down his cheeks. This was all too much for him to handle at such short notice, especially finding out that his father was a notorious mass-murderer. Harry simply rubbed his back, trying to calm him down.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry stayed in the hospital with Dylan for the next several days. He wanted the boy to trust him and so far, it was going great. Even though Dylan was an illegitimate child, there was no denying the fact that he was the Heir Apparent of House Lestrange unless one of the Lestrange brothers sired another child, which was not possible considering they were in Azkaban for life.

The political ramifications of this would be huge, not to mention quite ugly, so before anyone to contest to be the guardian of the boy, Sirius and Amelia had quietly gotten it done. Dylan may not be Bellatrix's child, but the Lestranges had intermarried with the Blacks a few generations ago, so it was all clean. Besides, this would ensure that other dark families wouldn't try to get their claws on the boy. There was no telling what they would do. Even Lucius Malfoy would do his best to get custody. They had decided that it was better this way.

Once Dylan was fully healed, Sirius used his influence as the owner to make Rita Skeeter write an article in the _Magical Daily_ newspaper, letting people know the truth. This had to be handled delicately because the name Lestrange might have once been quite influential, but it had since been disgraced because of the actions of the three which led to the state of the Longbottoms. The article correctly conveyed what had happened to the boy's mother and her family and that the boy had been raised in a Muggle orphanage, not knowing of his heritage.

There had been massive uproar as expected, but then again, even the smallest article with juicy information could get the population to talk or protest. The traditionalists on the Wizengamot had immediately tried to get custody, but Sirius announced that he had already gained guardianship of the boy. Albus Dumbledore was all for it even though he had been annoyed at not knowing about it. He did not want another child going down a dark path and the young Lestrange would be safer if he was kept as far away from the former Death Eaters as possible.

Augusta Longbottom had been another problem.

The woman had said that the boy should not be allowed at Hogwarts or any other magical school in Britain knowing what his father had done. Sirius had rebutted her statement saying that they shouldn't judge a child based on their parents' crimes. Dylan had never even met his father and didn't know of him until recently. He argued that Augusta was looking at Rabastan in Dylan and that was unethical. Augusta had been fuming and refused to talk to Sirius or Amelia after that.

A few others had said that the boy was illegitimate and hence could not access the Lestrange title or fortune. Sirius had calmly pointed out that no one at the Wizengamot had the authority to stop the boy from claiming his inheritance and anyone stupid enough to do so would be charged with line-theft. The family magic would decide if he could claim his position as the Heir. Needless to say, it was quite a messy political battle and Sirius was exhausted at the end of it.

Once he was healed, Dylan was taken to Black Castle where they spent their summer. The boy was in awe of the castle and also the beautiful beaches of the island. Daphne and Astoria had had also decided to come along. Dylan slowly began to open up over the course of the holidays. He also seemed to trust Harry the most, sticking to him wherever they went. Harry and Dylan went shopping for clothes along with Elizabeth Greengrass and by the end of the trip, the boy couldn't stop stuttering his thanks. Dylan had also devoured all the books Harry had given him about magic.

All in all, the summer holidays were going quite well.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The Lord's study in Potter Castle was dim, with the lighting charms at minimum setting and a fire burning brightly in the fireplace.

Harry Potter was sitting at the centre of the room, on a luxurious carpet, in a meditative state. He was looking for the memories that had come to him when he was in the Chamber of Secrets. He dwelled into his mind and found a memory which he had trapped in his mind palace.

 _He was standing in a classroom with Professor Slughorn and hesitantly asked while trying to hide his excitement. "Sir, I was wondering what you know about ... Horcruxes?"_

 _"_ _Well," said Slughorn, not looking at him, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallised pineapple. "Well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course, just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."_

 _"_ _Yes, sir," he said. "What I don't understand, though — just out of curiosity — I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven –"_

 _He looked at the small diary in front of him and many other ingredients which surrounded him. A glass of potion, which was pitch black was sitting on a table. He took it and drank the contents, and then pointed his wand at the diary and said the spell. Pain. It was more pain than he had ever imagined! Had something gone wrong? Just as he felt like he couldn't tolerate the pain anymore, it stopped. He opened his eyes to look at the diary, which was glowing. He smiled widely. He was just sixteen, but he had done it. He had finally created his first Horcrux!_

 _His filthy Muggle father! How dare the man leave his mother and reject him before he was even born? The words of his father calling him and his mother unnatural freaks still echoed in his mind. The big black and gold ring lay in front of him. He drank the potion and pointed the wand at the ring. Pain. The ring glowed._

 _How stupid of the ghost, and she actually was the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself! While he immensely respected Rowena for her sheer intelligence, he couldn't help but be disgusted by her daughter. She had just handed over her mother's prized diadem to him, without question! He gazed at the artefact in front of him. He drank the potion and pointed the wand at it. Pain. The diadem glowed._

 _That stupid woman! How dare she insult his mother? Not that he cared about his weak mother, but it was the principle of the thing! And she possessed Salazar Slytherin's locket! It rightfully belonged to him, the descendant of Slytherin. He looked at the golden cup in front of him. Hufflepuff's chalice. He drank the potion and pointed the wand at it. Pain. The cup glowed._

 _What a worthless family. He had just eliminated the McKinnons for daring to stand up to him and his Death Eaters; they would serve as an example to others who wanted to rebel against him and also send a strong message to the Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore. He looked at the locket in front of him – Salazar's locket. He eagerly drank the potion and pointed his wand at the locket. The pain was a lot lesser than before. The locket glowed._

Harry gasped as he opened his eyes, his heart thumping wildly. He went over to the Floo in his study and threw the powder into the polished granite fireplace. "Black Castle," he shouted as he was engulfed by the green flames.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The Black Library was truly a horrifying place to be in if you did not approve of dark magic.

The Blacks were perhaps the most notorious of all the families in Europe who dabbled in such magic or at least studied it. They did not go too deep and actually break the laws of magic, but they did insist on studying it all. They were a paranoid bunch as there was no telling when someone could use the most dangerous of magic against the family. And the Blacks had to prevail at all cost.

That's why there were books on Horcruxes in the secret library which was accessible only to the Head of House, deep inside Black Castle. Harry had searched the Potter library, but not one book even mentioned the word Horcrux. He wasn't too surprised though. The Potters had their fair share of books on dark magic in their library, but Horcruxes were a taboo subject around the world; even dark wizards suppressed all knowledge of it as they knew of the consequences of splitting one's soul, but of course, Voldemort never did anything halfway – or ever listened to others.

"I can't believe the fool actually created one," said Sirius grimly. "According to Scorpius Black III, creating a Horcrux goes against the sacred laws of Magic. Tearing your soul is something that shouldn't be done. To think Voldemort created one at the age of sixteen is horrifying."

"It says here that a Horcrux can only be destroyed by something which is so destructive that it can't repair itself," said Amelia.

"Basilisk venom worked against the diary," Harry interrupted. "What else?"

"According to Virgo Black, Fiendfyre and the Killing Curse work too," said Sirius.

"I can perform the Killing Curse, but not Fiendfyre," Harry shrugged. "What?" he asked defensively when he caught them staring at him.

Sirius pursed his lips, giving him a penetrating look. "We'll talk about that later," he said quietly. "Virgo Black managed to split the soul of a rabbit and contain it in a metal jar; though how he did it is beyond me. He used the Killing Curse on it which worked. The curse itself works on the soul, so it is effective. Horcruxes are meant to be heavily protected and very, very few people can effectively perform the Killing Curse. Even amongst the Death Eaters, not all of them could cast it. I know I can't."

"Neither can I," admitted Amelia. "Any idea of how you were able to access Voldemort's memories?"

"Grandfather Alfred said something about a possession by Voldemort which was lodged in my scar. It was removed and destroyed by my house-elves when I was seven."

"Possession?" asked Sirius suspiciously. "No, that doesn't add up. I'll look into it."

"In the meantime, I'll see if I can access more of those memories."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: In canon, we don't see so many curses which are used for lethal purposes; the Killing Curse is the only one which is widely mentioned. According to Barty Jr, the curse requires intent behind it, with some special force to it. I don't see how conventional, low ranking Death Eaters could perform the curse effectively if it is difficult to master it. I go by the theory that there are plenty of other curses which are more horrifying than the Killing Curse, so they used them. As for Harry using the Killing Curse, well, Voldemort used it in his sixth year and Harry will be starting his sixth year soon. Harry has enough hatred in him to make the curse work. Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	15. The Badger found

**_Chapter 15_**

 ** _The Badger Found_**

In a room at the Pendragon Hotel, the best upscale hotel in Magical Britain, a woman named Serena Miller was sitting, looking quite nervous. This was the biggest make or break moment of her life.

Serena was a Muggle-born. When she had received her Hogwarts letter, her parents and siblings, being quite traditional, hadn't been happy at all. They had called her a freak of nature, an abomination, and had kicked her out of the house. She had been devastated, but went to Hogwarts anyway, despite her parents' warnings.

There, she had been sorted into Hufflepuff and made lots of friends. Her best friend had been a half-blood boy, Chris Miller. When she was dreading to go back home after school ended, he helped her. When Mrs Miller, Chris's mother, a Muggle-born herself, took her to Serena's home, her parents had yelled at them and told them to never come back. Her parents had later moved away, so as to cut off all communication with their estranged daughter. Serena had been devastated and had slowly slipped into depression. Chris's parents took her in and looked after her and thus, she came to regard them as her own parents.

She and Chris got married after leaving Hogwarts. But tragedy struck as the Death Eaters killed her husband and in-laws when she was away one night. She had been inconsolable. She was alone, as her family was killed. She couldn't return to the Muggle world as she didn't belong there, but the magical world was not safe either. She disappeared for a few months, hoping everything would settle down. Thankfully, it did. Harry Potter had saved them all.

She had been working in the Ministry in the Obliviation squad as they needed them in numbers at that point to ensure that the International Statute of Secrecy wasn't breached during Death Eater attacks. But she didn't want to work there forever. Her dream was to be an enchantress. She was highly gifted in the field and wanted to make her dream a reality. She had created mirrors that would be able to communicate with each other, but she didn't know if they were going to be a success because such technology was already present due to the Floo network. But she finally decided to try. So three years ago, she had quit her job at the Ministry and had opened her own business. The business wasn't very profitable, but luckily it didn't go into losses either.

More than a year ago, she had been contacted by the Director of Gringotts Bank, London. Rangok informed her that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, wanted to invest a hundred thousand Galleons, perhaps more, if she could enhance the mirrors and create other useful gadgets with them.

Since she didn't have a family, she was quite free to do anything with her time. So she had spent every spare moment on those devices. She was here today to demonstrate her products and hopefully, they would be impressed. She swallowed when she saw them walk in.

"Lord Black, Mr Potter," she greeted them.

"Good morning, Mrs Miller," Sirius greeted her as took a seat. "I have gone through the contract after our last meeting. Harry is very interested in your products and he is willing to invest as much money as it takes if you are able to improve upon the mirrors you currently possess."

"Actually, I sent her a letter long time back giving her ideas about more devices," said Harry.

"I took those ideas to heart," Serena replied. She opened a bag, removing several mirrors and crystals. The crystal would be able to move from one place to another, transmitting the image to a mirror which it was connected to using a modified form of a Protean Charm. This would greatly enhance the entertainment industry. The mirrors which she called them as E-Mirrors were loosely based on the Muggle television. Then there were the improvements she had made to the communication mirrors as well. The crystals could also record anything and play it on the E-Mirrors later. This type of magical technology already existed in the form of Omnioculars, but this was different. A Quidditch match could be watched at home using the mirrors and Harry's brain was already processing the information on how to best use it to their advantage.

Several hours later, Harry now owned fifty per cent shares in Miller's Magic Mirrors and he had spent a million Galleons on production and international coverage, but it was worth it. If he and Sirius were right, this was probably the best investment Harry had made yet.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"You can turn into an animal?" asked Dylan in surprise. In response, Sirius changed into Padfoot as he pounced on the boy, licking his face. Dylan laughed as he tried to push the black dog off of him, but failed.

"Get off, Uncle Sirius, you're too heavy!"

Harry was concentrating on the final stages of the Animagus transformation. He had spent nearly a whole year on this and was close to finishing it. Sirius transformed back and the two of them sat down, watching Harry, who had his eyes closed.

"Concentrate," Sirius instructed him. "The Transfiguration process is done and now you need to merge with your animal form. Feel it within you and let your instincts guide you."

Dylan watched curiously as Harry got up and stretched his arms towards the side. They were outside, on the beach, early in the morning. He watched as Harry's body began shrinking. Dark brown feathers began making their way on his body. His arms turned into large wings with lethal-looking talons for legs and after several seconds, Harry's head changed, creating a sharp beak.

Harry's Animagus form was a golden eagle.

"Wow," Dylan whispered as he looked at the eagle in awe. He could see that the raptor's eyes were a stunning emerald green instead of the yellow they were supposed to be. Just above the eagle's right eye, there was a distinctive lightning shaped scar as well. It wasn't too obvious, but if you knew where to look, it could be seen.

"Congratulations, Harry!" said Sirius, beaming with pride. "Go on. Let's see if you can fly."

Five minutes later, Sirius and Dylan were still rolling on the ground laughing as Harry tried to learn how to use his wings. The eagle screeched at them, not at all amused by their display of laughing at him but he didn't give up. Nearly an hour of trial and error later, he managed to fly a short distance.

"Now, be careful when you change back," warned Sirius. "You need to want to be human again. Think about your original self and concentrate."

Several seconds later, the eagle slowly began to shift and a pop later, a very naked Harry Potter was standing in front of them. They couldn't help it. Sirius and Dylan began laughing again.

"It's not funny!" snapped Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "You didn't say anything about clothes!"

"I thought it would be obvious," Sirius replied, wiping his tears away. "Didn't you imagine yourself with clothes on?"

When Harry flushed, he laughed again. "Knowing you, I should have expected it. Don't worry, kiddo. It happens. The important thing is that you're now an Animagus. I'm so proud of you!"

"That was awesome, Harry!" said Dylan excitedly. He was blushing slightly, embarrassed due to the fact that his new friend was standing before him without any clothes on. The older boy seemed to be unbothered by his nudity, having not even attempted to cover his exposed genitals. Clearing his throat, he asked shyly, "Do you think I can learn it too?"

"Finish the next two or three years at Hogwarts and I'll teach you," Harry smiled. Wrapping an arm around the younger boy, he ushered Dylan towards the castle. "Now that I've managed to transform, I deserve a break. Let's head to the pool. I promised to teach you how to swim."

Dylan beamed.

Sirius simply smiled as he observed the two boys before he returned to the confines of his family's ancestral home.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The next morning, Harry, Dylan and Sirius were in Ragnok's office at Gringotts. This was the first time Dylan had stepped inside Gringotts and he was in awe of seeing something so different.

"Greetings, Ragnok," Harry greeted him with a small smile.

"Greetings to you as well, Mr Potter, Lord Black, Mr Lestrange," the goblin replied. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about the new business we invested in a year back," Sirius took over. "I've been told that it's called Firebolt Broomsticks?"

"Indeed," said Ragnok, extracting the files. "The owner seemed to have changed the name from what he originally intended, but by my estimates, the company will do quite well in the future. It is a worthy investment."

"Any news about Miller's Mirrors?" asked Harry curiously.

"Your endorsement of the company has greatly helped increase their sales, Mr Potter," Ragnok gave a toothy grin. "Very cunning of you to do so and the gifts which are given free of cost to the customers when they buy products more than a hundred Galleons is quite a technique to attract customers. I have received a report that production is going well and that sales are increasing every day."

"Good," said Harry. "What about expansion plans?"

"We are currently looking at places of business in several magical districts of Europe, Americas, Africa, Australia and Asia," said Ragnok. "I can give you a clear picture in four to six months or so."

After Harry nodded, Sirius began. "We are here to see if Dylan here can claim his status as the heir of House Lestrange."

Ragnok nodded as he brought forward a small silver bowl. "As you know, being the illegitimate child makes this more complicated, but since he is the only heir of the Lestrange family, no one else can stop him from trying. Pour seven drops of blood into this bowl, Mr Lestrange and dip your hand in it."

Harry took Dylan's hand and waved his hand over it, creating a thin cut over his palm. Dylan winced but allowed seven drops of blood to fall. Once done, Harry healed it and he put his hand inside the bowl. A grey mist formed around him as the Lestrange family magic judged him.

After what seemed like a minute, the aura seeped into the boy's skin. Dylan removed his hand from the bowl and a thin gold band with a small onyx stone appeared on his right ring finger with the Lestrange crest on it.

"Congratulations, Mr Lestrange," said Ragnok. "Even though it is unnecessary, I must point out that if your father ever gets married and has a child, that child would automatically be made the heir. But considering the fact that he'll be in Azkaban for life, it is highly unlikely."

"Can't he claim headship as I did?" asked Harry.

"No, the law does not allow that because technically, his uncle is still Lord Lestrange even if he is in prison for life. He can claim headship on his seventeenth birthday only. He may claim it before only if all three of them die in Azkaban before he turns seventeen."

"Thank you for your time, Ragnok," said Sirius. "We'd like to visit the Lestrange family vault, please. I'll come back later next week to discuss the investment options."

"Good. Griphook will take you to the vault."

After a long cart ride, the three of them stepped out of it and in front of a massive round metal door with the Lestrange crest on it. Griphook began chanting for a few minutes as the goblin wards came down. Sirius and Harry were not surprised by it because it was something which was there on their family vaults as well, but it was new to Dylan.

"There are both wizard and goblin wards on the vault," said Sirius quietly to the boy. "This is one of the oldest vaults in the bank. The Black and Potter vaults are nearby, actually. They are heavily guarded and protected by the best wards money can buy. Having such a vault is very expensive, which is why I want to get the investments rolling again."

"Place your hand on this pedestal and pour three drops of blood," instructed Griphook firmly. Dylan did as instructed and after a series of clicks, the massive door opened. He gasped.

There were mountains of gold and other treasures inside it. Dylan had never seen so much gold in his life! When he was an orphan, he didn't even have money to get food if he was hungry but looking at this ...

"All yours," said Sirius with a smile. The three of them stepped inside it, looking carefully. "Be careful not to touch anything. Some of the items can be cursed."

Harry was looking through the vault when his eyes landed on a small golden cup. Suddenly he screamed out in pain as another memory assaulted him.

 _"Bella, my most loyal servant," he said in a silky voice. "I have an important task for you."_

 _"Anything, my Lord," said Bellatrix, falling to her knees, her eyes glistening with pure devotion, as though she was talking to a supreme being._

 _"I have an object that is extremely valuable to me, Bella," he said clearly. "I want it to be stored in a very safe place, so I am entrusting it to you. Tell me, who has access to the Lestrange family vault at Gringotts?"_

 _"No one other than me, Rodolphus and Rabastan, my Lord," breathed Bellatrix. "What can I do, my Lord? I live only to serve you!"_

 _"I'm glad to hear that, Bella," he replied, amused. "Protecting this item is more important than your life itself. It is a chalice that was created by Helga Hufflepuff. I need you to place it in your family vault. Tell no one other than Rodolphus and Rabastan about it. The cup should never leave that vault. Take all the necessary precautions. If something were to happen to it, Lord Voldemort would not be pleased."_

 _"I will not fail you, my Lord," said Bellatrix passionately. "I will destroy the world before I let that cup fall into the wrong hands."_

 _He smirked slightly. "You have the gratitude of Lord Voldemort, Bella. Rise."_

 _He passed her a familiar looking small golden cup._

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp. His eyes were unfocused and he could see the worried faces of Sirius and Dylan who were holding him.

"Harry, are you alright?" asked Sirius worriedly.

Harry grabbed Sirius' shirt, pulling him closer. "Sirius, it's here," he hissed. "That cup belongs to Voldemort! Helga Hufflepuff's Cup!"

"What?" Sirius exclaimed in disbelief. He turned around and saw the small golden cup which was sitting on a shelf, glinting innocently, looking nothing like a piece of Voldemort's soul.

"We need to destroy it!"

"What's going on?" asked Dylan hesitantly.

"That cup, Dylan is something which is very valuable to Voldemort," said Harry quietly. "We were searching for it but I never knew that it was here in the Lestrange vault! Voldemort gave the cup to Bellatrix for safe keeping. Sirius, we need to store it somewhere safe. If it falls into the wrong hands – if it is lost ..."

"I know," said Sirius grimly. "But I can't take it out. I don't have the authority."

"But I can, right?" said Dylan curiously.

Harry and Sirius turned to face him, looking confused. Their expressions cleared. "We can't let you get involved in this, Dylan," said Sirius, shaking his head. "If Voldemort were to find out you were involved in this you could be in grave danger! No, we'll have to figure out another way for me to claim access to it."

"Listen, I don't care about that!" said Dylan heatedly. "You two have done so much for me over the past month. No one has ever shown so much care for me before. You took care of me, got me clothes, gave me food, and gave me a home ... There is nothing I can do to repay you for that. But this is something I can do. Please, let me help you!"

Sirius looked conflicted. He did not want to paint a target on the boy, but this was way too important. But if they destroyed all the Horcruxes, there would be no target on him at all.

"Alright, Dylan," said Sirius finally.

An hour later, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff was kept in a highly secured vault at Potter Castle.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The rest of the summer passed rapidly. Harry's O.W.L. results had come a few weeks back and he had gotten an Outstanding in all his twelve O.W.L.s, which made everyone very happy. It was now the last week of August and Harry and Dylan were in Diagon Alley, finishing their school shopping. Amelia was now staying at the manor full time because she was close to delivery and she was getting quite irritable at the smallest of things. Luckily, Sirius took the brunt of her anger. Harry and Dylan escaped to Greengrass Manor during the mornings. Dylan seemed to have become friends with Astoria so it worked out quite nicely for Harry who wanted to spend time with Daphne.

At Twilfit and Tattings, Harry ordered a full set of robes for Dylan made of silk. Dylan protested, but Harry was having none of it.

"Like it or not, you are the Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange," said Harry quietly. "All attention, mostly negative, will be on you when we enter Hogwarts. I don't want you stepping inside the castle on a back foot. The first impression is important, Dylan."

He refused to get new books but instead, kept Harry's old books in which the older boy had written useful tips on the margins. It was certainly useful considering that Harry was a genius. Harry also bought a Crup for Dylan and the boy was ecstatic about getting the puppy for a pet. Once regular shopping was done, they entered Ollivander's shop.

"Ah, the new Mr Lestrange," said Ollivander suddenly, startling them both. "Harry Potter – Yew and Thunderbird tail feather, fourteen inches."

"Yes, Mr Ollivander," said Harry. "I need to speak to you, but it can be done after Dylan gets a wand."

"Yes, I remember the wands of both your parents, Mr Lestrange," said Ollivander as he took measurements. "Your father preferred Blackthorn and Dragon Heartstring, very well suited for a warrior, but your mother's was a Willow and Unicorn hair wand, better suited for healing magic. But let's see what suits you, shall we?"

"Here you go ... Beech and Dragon Heartstring, Nine inches ..."

Several tries later, Ollivander gave another handsome looking wand. "Try this, Mr Lestrange. Rowan and Phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches. Nice and supple."

When Dylan took the wand, he felt it heat up. Bright sparks shot out of the end of his wand as he swished it down making Ollivander cheer. "Bravo, Mr Lestrange! Good, very good. Now, what can I do for you, Mr Potter?"

Harry carefully removed a box from inside his robes. "This is the basilisk fang that nearly killed me a few months ago, Mr Ollivander," he explained. "It pierced my forearm from where I was poisoned. Since that night I have felt a connection to it and I was wondering if it had anything to do with a focus."

Ollivander gazed at Harry pointedly. "You've read my books on wand lore, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Harry honestly.

"Good boy," muttered Ollivander. "No one seems to care about wand lore these days other than those who want to pursue it as a career." He touched the fang with a pair of dragon hide gloves and closed his eyes to feel it. "You're right. You do have a connection with this fang. The very tip of it has your blood on it too, which is mixed with the basilisk venom. I think I can modify your wand if you are interested."

"Oh, I'm very much interested," said Harry as he flicked his wand out of his holster and presenting it to the old man. "I'd like Dylan to have a holster too."

"It'll take me a few days, Mr Potter. Come by my shop the day before you are to leave for Hogwarts and you'll have it ready."

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," Harry bowed with respect and ushered Dylan out of the shop.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

On the thirty-first of August, Harry found himself in Ollivander's shop again. The wandmaker had gone to his workshop to retrieve the wand. When he came back, he brought the wand in a box.

"This is my finest work if I do say so myself," said Ollivander happily as he opened the box. Harry gaped at the beauty of the wand that was inside it. It had changed significantly.

"The wand is fifteen inches now," he continued. "I managed to infuse the tip of the fang with the focus of the wand. The entire length of the wand is covered with fang ivory and Yew wood which are intertwined with each other. This certainly is a unique wand, Mr Potter, because I have never created anything like it. I must confess, it was inspiring to work on something like this. I thought it would be thicker, but I managed to work the ivory in such a way that it now sticks to the Yew wood like a second skin. The thickness has only marginally increased, but I couldn't help but increase the length. It is still very rigid, unfortunately, but that certainly explains your personality."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry curiously.

Ollivander paused for a second. "A wand of this flexibility will only give their true loyalty to someone who has faced a great personal tragedy. It is the best when it comes to offensive magic and has a stigma on magic that is frivolous and silly. Owners of highly rigid wands also have a tough time trusting others and they prefer to be left alone. You can tell a lot about a person by studying their wand. Yew is a wood which is quite unusual because they tend to have more power than others and hence has a somewhat dark reputation. Those who don't study wand lore tend to fear the Yew wand based on the superstition that only dark wizards carry such a wand, which is not true at all. The owner of a Yew wand is never a mediocre wizard; quite the opposite in that they are exceptional and sometimes notorious. The Dark Lord is a perfect example of this and so are you."

"The Thunderbird is a powerful magical creature. It is like an eagle in its majesty and power. Not everyone can handle a wand which has a thunderbird feather as a core. It is highly adaptable to combative magic and it won't back away from a fight when provoked. The thunderbird has a powerful affinity with nature and is a symbol of creation and destruction. An eagle is said to be the king of the sky and magical creatures like thunderbirds, hippogriffs and griffins are the same. You bow down to no one. The basilisk is also the king of serpents and its venom is the deadliest poison ever known in the world. The fact that you survived after getting bitten by one is a wonder in itself. It is unheard of and that's why you have a connection with this fang."

Harry blushed because he felt quite exposed in front of the old wandmaker. He didn't like it when people knew so much about him and he was astounded that Ollivander managed to describe him so accurately just by studying his wand!

"What about Dylan's wand?"

"Ah, Mr Lestrange," mused Ollivander. "His wood comes from the branch of a Rowan tree. From what I know, Rowan wands tend to be more protective than any other and are very skilled in all kinds of defensive magic. It is quite common among wandmakers to say that no dark witch or wizard has ever owned a Rowan wand. A true owner of such a wand is clear-headed and pure-hearted, but don't be fooled. Rowan wands are very powerful in the hands of a skilled warrior and should never be underestimated. Mr Lestrange has great potential and I am quite looking forward to what he does with his life. His wand is also supple, which means he is usually gentle, warm, humble and kind-hearted. The phoenix feather core shows that while he is free-spirited, his loyalty once earned is not something anyone can shatter easily. It is still too early to say anything for certain, though. Each witch or wizard is different just as each wand is different."

"Can you tell me about the wand of Daphne Greengrass?" asked Harry, his mind spinning.

"Hmm, Miss Greengrass," muttered Ollivander, lost in thought. "Walnut and Dragon Heartstring, twelve and a half inches; walnut wands find the ideal mate in the hands of highly intelligent witches and wizards. Enchanters and magical innovators much prefer this wand wood and the Dragon Heartstring core coupled with the wood makes it a truly lethal wand in the hands of a warrior. Yes, we can expect great things from her as well."

Harry nodded and picked up his wand from the box. The moment his hand gripped the handle, power seemed to ooze out of him as the wand hummed in his hand.

"Oh this is amazing," Harry breathed out in awe. "I've never felt so connected with my wand before. You truly are a great wizard, Mr Ollivander."

"I'm just doing my job, Mr Potter," said Ollivander with a smile. Harry then exited the shop a hundred Galleons lighter, but extremely satisfied.

After he left, Ollivander smiled, his silvery eyes looming over the boy outside as another vision of the future became visible in front of his very eyes. "The Saviour of Magic," he whispered. "Yes, as I said, we can expect great things from you, Harry Potter. Some might view it as terrible, but it is necessary. Universal greatness usually comes at a cost of enormous personal suffering, Harry Potter. I just hope you don't crumble before you fulfil your destiny. As long as you take the right decisions, Magic can be saved. If not, the entire planet is doomed."

He walked to the back of his office and removed a sheet of parchment and a quill. He began writing and once done, he sealed it in an envelope and attached it to the leg of his owl.

The letter was addressed to Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

On the first of September, after shrinking their trunks and saying goodbye to the elves and the ghost of Alfred Potter, Harry and Dylan Flooed from Potter Castle to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to head to Hogwarts. Dylan was chatting away to him about the newest book he had read and Harry simply shook his head in amusement. Choosing a compartment, they sat down, both taking out a book to read.

"I think I already know which House you'll be sorted into," said a sarcastic voice.

Dylan's eyes lit up as he saw his first and only friend at the door. "Hey Astoria," he said excitedly.

"Hey to you too!" she replied happily, sitting down next to him.

" _Ahem_ ," Harry cleared his throat pointedly. "I exist too, you know."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "I haven't forgotten, but when my sister is here, you tend to forget everyone else in the room. I'm just waiting for you to finish greeting her."

"Someone's in a bad mood," said Daphne, rolling her eyes as she entered the compartment. "Hey Harry," she greeted him, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him a soft kiss.

"Aww, I didn't need to see that!" grumbled Astoria as Dylan snickered.

"No one is asking you to watch, Tori," Daphne snapped at her sister, taking a seat next to her fiancé.

They began talking to each other when more people came by to greet them. At the end of the previous term, many people had come to apologise to Harry about the way they treated him so he had gotten over his anger at them mostly, but that didn't stop him from introducing the Weasley twins to Sirius so that the former would have help in pranking the rest of the school for what had happened the previous year. After about ten minutes, Theo, Blaise and Tracy entered.

"Bonjour! How was your summer?" Tracy grinned.

"What's with the 'bonjour'?"

"I spent the last few weeks in France with my family. So, what's new?"

"Everyone, this is Dylan Lestrange. Dylan, meet our friends Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Tracy Davis. They're third year Slytherins."

"Nice to meet you all," said Dylan shyly holding out his hand. The boys shook hands enthusiastically, but Tracy was a bit uncomfortable, which Harry noticed. He exhaled. This was only the beginning of what the Lestrange scion would soon face. After a few minutes, Susan Bones entered the compartment.

"Guys, we have a problem," she said grimly.

"What is it?" asked Daphne as she and Astoria petted Dylan's Crup.

"It's Neville," said Susan nervously. "Father and Aunt Amy told me about what went on in the Wizengamot this summer and, well, looks like Neville's grandmother has shown her displeasure at Uncle Sirius' decision earlier this summer."

Dylan stiffened suddenly, knowing where this was going. Harry frowned but Daphne and Astoria looked at each other worriedly.

"I don't know what she has told him but he seems quite angry," Susan told them. "Usually he's quite shy, right? But when I saw him yesterday he was ranting about how it was not fair. I tried to explain, but he got angry. I'm pretty sure his grandmother has told him something which has irked him a little too deep."

"I'm sorry," whispered Dylan. "Maybe I should leave ..."

"No," said Harry firmly. "Dylan, Augusta Longbottom is too set in her ways. I can't fault her for her anger, but to hold it against you is immoral and unethical. I won't let anyone treat you like that, understood? This is no way your fault!"

"I wonder why she doesn't hold the same hatred for Narcissa or Draco Malfoy," Daphne frowned. "After all, Lady Malfoy is Bellatrix's sister. Dylan, on the other hand, has never even met his father!"

They were all quiet for a while. Neville found them after a while and his eyes swept over them. He looked at the small boy sitting near the window and his eyes hardened as he walked away.

"Well, so much for that," said Theo quietly.

"I'll talk to him in a few days," said Harry. "Give him some time and I'm sure he'll be back to normal."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Dylan was unusually quiet during the train ride but Astoria kept trying to cheer him up. After several hours, they finally reached Hogsmeade station. When they disembarked, Harry pulled Dylan into a hug.

"Remember, whichever House you end up, I'll be there for you," he said quietly. "I'm really proud of how you are coping with all this. I'm not saying that it is going to be easy, but I know you can do it. I have confidence in you, but you need to believe in yourself. Ignore what everyone else has to say, understood?"

"Thanks, Harry," whispered Dylan.

"Good luck, Dylan," said Harry as he watched the boy go and join the rest of the first years. He made his way to the thestral drawn carriages and several minutes later, they reached the castle proper. Making his way to the group of third-year Ravenclaws, he sat down and made small talk with his Housemates. He did his best to ignore the people staring at him, but it was starting to get annoying. He took a deep breath and his emotions were back under control, his face impassive. Professor McGonagall led the new first years into the Great Hall and Harry could see Dylan looking at the starry sky above in awe.

"When I call your name, you'll come forth and sit on this stool and place the hat on your head to get sorted," said Professor McGonagall. She began reading the names and Harry felt his heart beating faster.

"Astoria Greengrass!"

Like her sister before her, Astoria calmly walked up to the stool and sat down gracefully. The Sorting Hat was lowered onto her head and there was silence for several seconds. Harry frowned slightly. He had known Astoria for two years and knew exactly where she would end up. The fact that it was taking so long meant one thing – she was fighting the hat's decision.

After a minute, the hat's brim opened as it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry smirked. It looked like Astoria was unsuccessful in changing the decision of the Sorting Hat. He could see that she was glaring at the Hat and he couldn't suppress a smile. He wondered which House she wanted to go to. His guess was Ravenclaw, so that she wouldn't have to be in the same House as her sister.

Several names later, McGonagall swallowed slightly as she announced –

"Dylan Lestrange!"

There was absolute silence in the Great Hall as no one dared to breathe. Albus Dumbledore leaned forward slightly in anticipation and Harry mentally scowled. There was no way he would let Dylan be manipulated by the old fool. Harry didn't know why he was feeling so protective of the boy. True, when he first met Dylan he had felt bad for what had happened to him, but his mind had been working on how to use it to his advantage. Not the boy, but his predicament. Here was another wizard who had been abused by Muggles. After spending the last two months with Dylan, he had come to regard the boy as his little brother, mostly because of how both of them had grown up. He would be damned if someone messed with him!

Dylan slowly made his way to the stool, shaking slightly. Harry observed the expressions on the faces of many students. Most of them were terrified of the boy while some were openly scowling. His eyes narrowed when he saw a smirk on Draco Malfoy's face.

Once the Hat was placed over his head, Harry felt his heart beating faster again. After just three seconds, the brim opened as it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Harry, Daphne, Astoria and a few others clapped but the rest of the Hall remained silent. Harry felt his anger beginning to rise as he pursed his lips in irritation. Dylan, having expected it, simply walked down and moved towards the Ravenclaw table, where the rest of the first years were seated. None of his Housemates even spared him a glance, as if they were purposely avoiding him. A few even scooted away, shooting fearful looks at the grey-eyed boy.

Harry clenched his fists, hoping that the feast would start soon. In his nervousness, he had not observed the new Defence teacher. His eyes widened marginally in shock as he recognised the man. What was Dumbledore up to?

After the sorting was over, Dumbledore stood up. "I have a few announcements to make," he said cheerfully. "But before that – tuck in!"

Food suddenly appeared in front of them as people began piling up their plates with food. Harry turned to the side and saw that Dylan was eating alone. Gritting his teeth in anger, he got up, in full view of everyone in the Great Hall, crossed over to the end of the Ravenclaw table and sat down next to Dylan, piling his plate with food.

"Told you I wouldn't leave you alone," muttered Harry.

Dylan swallowed his food and smiled slightly. "Thank you," he whispered.


	16. Little brother?

**_Chapter 16_**

 ** _Little Brother_**

Albus Dumbledore observed the two boys sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table. Dylan Lestrange's appearance was a complete shock to him, but a quick check on the Book of Admittance of Hogwarts had gotten the information he had needed. He had never expected Rabastan to have sired a bastard child. As soon as he found out about it, he had rushed to the Ministry to find out everything possible. If the boy was anything like his father or uncle, it would be disastrous. The threat of Voldemort and to an extent, Harry, was bad enough and he didn't need anymore. But Sirius had already moved ahead. He had gained custody of the boy.

He had conflicted about that. On one hand, Sirius taking custody of the boy was better than someone like Lucius Malfoy or Aiden Avery or even Theodore Nott Sr. But the problem was that Sirius Black was anti-Dumbledore and Albus couldn't have that. The entire Wizengamot also was up in arms over the issue. The traditionalists were against the boy because he was an illegitimate half-blood child. The Lestranges were pureblood fanatics and they couldn't have that. Sirius, however, was right. They couldn't stop Dylan from claiming his heritage. Line-theft was serious business in the magical world. The heir ring on the boy's finger only proved who was right.

The centrists were not that powerful without support from either side, so it didn't matter what they thought. The liberals, on the other hand, under the 'light' banner wanted to get rid of the boy. Augusta Longbottom had been the most vocal and the fight she and Sirius had in the Wizengamot earlier this summer was legendary. Albus was happy about that because Sirius had lost some support with the liberals even though he was Regent Gryffindor. Unfortunately, that did not mean Sirius was any less powerful – he was now Lord Black and the Regent of Houses Potter, Gryffindor and Lestrange. He controlled four important votes, but Dumbledore had been in the political game for a century. Sirius was still a newbie.

He needed to have Dylan Lestrange under his control. It would be a great asset in the war against Voldemort if he could convince the boy to spy on the Death Eaters for the Order; being the son of a very high-ranking Death Eater would certainly have its benefits. Albus was sure that whether it was five, ten or twenty years, Voldemort would rise again and they would have to be ready for it. He would have to talk to the boy and get him out of Harry's influence. He did not need Legilimency to see the pure hero worship in the boy's eyes every time he saw Harry. No, until Harry could be firmly placed with the light, he was dangerous. Albus was still working on his plans to redeem Harry and get him to change his view on Muggles. It was very important. After all, the path of Grindelwald and Voldemort had started with Muggle domination; that was the root cause of it all and it was imperative that Harry did not take such a path in his life.

Once the feast was done, Dumbledore got to his feet. "A few start-of-term announcements," he said happily. "I would like to mention two staff changes this year. First, please welcome Professor Remus Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Good luck, Professor."

People clapped politely, but some were less than impressed with Lupin's worn and faded robes. Remus bowed slightly and resumed his seat. Snape was glaring at him.

"Since Professor Kettleburn decided to retire this year, I am pleased to announce that our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher is none other than Rubeus Hagrid!"

Harry raised an eyebrow as people at the Gryffindor table cheered. He knew that Hagrid knew a lot about creatures, but did that mean he was qualified to teach? Knowing something and teaching it are different. Just look at Snape! He was the worst teacher anyone could have in Potions, but no one could doubt the fact that he was brilliant at the subject.

"That's all for tonight. Pip, pip!" said Dumbledore, dismissing them. Harry led Dylan to Ravenclaw Tower, showing him useful shortcuts along the way. Once they entered the common room, he followed the boy to his room. It was quite tiny and simple, just like the rest.

"Well, it's better than the orphanage," said Dylan, examining the room. "I'm happy that I get my own room."

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Green," said Dylan promptly. Harry smiled slightly. Maybe some things were genetic, after all. The Lestranges were proud Slytherins, or maybe it was a coincidence?

Harry flicked his wand to his hand, idly noting that his spells had become more powerful since the addition of the basilisk fang ivory in the wand. Waving his wand in a long fluid motion, he expanded the room to a large size. The walls turned from stone to green and beige and the closet expanded. All in all, it was quite luxurious for a student.

"Wow! I love magic!"

Harry chuckled as he ruffled the boy's hair fondly, just like Sirius did to him. "I'm glad you like it. Remember, if you need anything, you have your mirror with you and you can call me. My room is two floors up and you are welcome there anytime, got it?"

"Thanks, Harry," said Dylan with a bright smile. "Good night!"

"Good night."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The next morning, Harry got up early as usual and went out for his morning run. Two hours later, he came back pink and sweaty and went to take a bath. Ensuring that he was impeccably dressed as always, he gracefully walked down the stairs, not noticing the admiring looks the girls in third and fourth years were giving him. Entering the Great Hall, he sat down at the Ravenclaw table and began helping himself to food. He had to clear his schedule with Professor Flitwick after breakfast and start his N.E.W.T. classes. He was just finishing his breakfast when Daphne and their friends arrived. When Professor Flitwick left the hall, Harry kissed Daphne goodbye and rushed after him as the other sixth year students left as well.

Dylan Lestrange came down to the Great Hall too. He had just seen Harry leave and he was on edge. He knew that nobody would want to talk to him, but he should try, right? He carefully sat down near a group of Ravenclaw first years, helping himself to food. Five minutes later, he realised that it was going to be more difficult than he thought. Dylan closed his eyes in frustration and misery. Even in the magical world, he was still a freak!

A few older years were watching Dylan with barely concealed scowls.

"That's Rabastan Lestrange's son, right?" asked seventeen-year-old Tony Wallace.

"Yes," snarled Kevin Taylor. "The Lestranges murdered my grandparents! I think it is time we taught him a lesson! He's probably the same as his father – a murdering, bloodthirsty lunatic!"

"And a bastard to boot," said Tony darkly.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry was immediately cleared to continue with Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Herbology, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. His first class was Potions and he proceeded to the dungeons along with the sixth years. Snape entered the classroom in a dramatic fashion as always.

"You are now N.E.W.T. students," he began. "I only accept the best of the best in my class so I won't handle anyone blowing up cauldrons here. If I feel that you are not up to the mark, I will ensure that you are not sitting in my class, so be well prepared before you enter my classroom."

Snape's lip curled when he spotted the thirteen-year-old boy amongst the sixteen-year-olds. "So, Potter, you managed to get into my N.E.W.T. class. Tell me, how many people did you bribe to get an Outstanding in your O.W.L.s?"

"None, Professor," said Harry calmly. "There are anti-cheating quills used by students and evaluators as you very well know. There are also other measures taken that prevent such fraud. Why, Professor Snape, do you doubt the competence of Madam Marchbanks and her team?"

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for your cheek, Potter," Snape retorted automatically. "Today we will be preparing the Draught of Living Death. This is the most complicated potion you have come across till date. Be warned; any mistakes you make could make the drinker enter a state of coma from which he can never recover from. It may also lead to death so be careful with what you are doing."

He saw a few people gulp and Snape mentally smirked in satisfaction. He saw the impassive face of Harry Potter and decided to test him again.

"Let's see how much our resident prodigy knows about the potion," he said silkily. "Potter, what are the two main ingredients for the Draught of Living Death?"

"Powdered root of asphodel and an infusion of wormwood, Professor," Harry replied immediately.

"What is the last step before which the potion would be complete?" asked Snape.

"The last step is to add a small piece of Valerian root," he answered, "after which the potion turns very pale and transparent."

Snape's lip curled as he stared at the boy. "The instructions are on the blackboard. You have an hour and a half. You may begin."

Harry waited for everyone to finish gathering their ingredients while he prepped his workstation. He charmed his rods, ignited a magically controlled flame, cast enchantments around the cauldron that would prevent accidents and then went to gather ingredients.

He had prepared this potion beforehand. As always, the ghost of Alfred Potter was quite happy to tutor Harry again. He also used his mother's notes to a great extent. Lily Potter had really been a genius and he was quite proud of that fact. He took his silver knife and crushed the sopophorous bean with the flat side of his dagger, ignoring the instructions in the book.

Harry also added a clockwise stir after every counter-clockwise stir. He remained calm as he watched Snape frown, walking towards him. Harry quickly flicked his wand as a sample of the potion was filled in a phial.

"Potter, what is this?" asked Snape angrily.

"The Draught of Living Death, Professor," said Harry casually.

"Tell me, Potter, can you read?" snapped Snape. Harry heard someone snickering in the background. He was not oblivious to the people in the school who were jealous of him. Harry still had many people who disliked him. Sirius had explained that it was mainly resentment because they felt Harry had everything while they didn't. He had the money, the good looks, the fame, a fiancée and was in the accelerated program. Who wouldn't be jealous? Of course, none of them truly knew the extent of Harry's suffering; but jealousy was not something anyone could reason with.

"Of course, Professor," said Harry, not falling for the trap to rile him up, though as always, he did retort with a cheeky reply. It would have worked if Snape hadn't tried it a hundred times before over the past two years. "I would never have been allowed in this class if I had not learnt how to read or write."

"Five points from Ravenclaw," the Potions master snapped. "Read the seventh line of the instructions for me, Potter."

Harry simply looked at the board. "Cut the sopophorous bean and pour the juice in the cauldron."

"Now read the tenth line for me."

"Stir counter-clockwise until the potion turns as clear as water. I don't see the problem."

"Don't you?" said Snape dangerously.

"No, I don't," said Harry quietly. "I know exactly where you are going with this, Professor Snape, and there is no reason I need to follow those instructions when there are alternate ones available that provide better results. You don't follow the same instructions when you brew the potion but you somehow feel that I shouldn't use the alternate instructions which every potions master uses."

Snape loomed over him dangerously as he whispered, "I am not someone who is impressed with my students cheating in my class, Potter. I don't know where you got these instructions from but you will not use them in my class!"

"This textbook is not the only source of reference, sir," said Harry, his eyes cold as the temperate dropped in the dungeon slightly as both wizards released some of their magic in anger. "As any good student would do, I researched the properties of the changes and applied them. The changes I used were confirmed by a certified potions mistress. Do not call me a cheat."

Harry and Snape stared at each other, anger displayed on both their faces. "How dare you use those instructions?" he snarled quietly, his face turning red in anger.

"Why would I be asking you permission for a method that is used by several potions masters around the world?" asked Harry haughtily. "You and my mother were not the only ones to discover it. Following my mother's instructions is hardly something to be frowned upon. Didn't you do the same? You both altered several potions together after all."

"Enough!" barked Snape, before leaning closer to speak in hushed, harsh tones. "Fifty points from Ravenclaw and detention with me, Potter! Don't you _dare_ talk about Lily! Class dismissed!"

The rest of the class hurried out but after packing his bag, Harry remained, looking at Snape with an unreadable look on his face.

"What are you still doing here, Potter?" spat Snape. "Get out!"

"First shut up and listen to what I have to say."

"What did you say?" asked Snape dangerously.

"You have some nerve even mentioning my mother's name when you are the reason she is dead!" hissed Harry. "I have put up with enough hippogriff shit from you over the past two years, Snape, but I have reached the end of my tether. I don't have unlimited patience. You treat me like crap because of what my father did to you during your school days but you don't realise that you are exactly what you hate most – a bully!"

"Why you little –"

"You leaked the prophecy to Voldemort, do you deny it?" snapped Harry, making Snape stop in shock, his wand still pointed at Harry, the tip glowing. "You're the reason my parents were targeted. You're the reason my parents were killed. You're the reason I am an orphan. _You_ are the reason I wound up living with Petunia and getting the shit beaten out of me every day for being a wizard. Don't act as though you are all mighty, Snape, because you're not. I know that I don't stand a chance if you choose to attack me right now, but know this. My influence in this country, especially after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, is not something I am unaware of. I'm Heir Potter-Gryffindor, and that holds sway in the government. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. You may have Dumbledore, but I have the entire magical population under my thumb. A former Death Eater won't stand a chance. Don't push my buttons or you will regret it!"

With that, Harry walked out of the class, slamming the door shut.

Snape gripped the handle of his wand tightly. Someday, he would get his revenge on Potter. He would make sure the boy suffered for mentioning Lily. It was not his fault that Lily had died; not really. If Lily had never married James Potter and married _him_ instead like she was supposed to; if she had never had a child with Potter, then none of this would have happened. It all came back to Potter again; it was always about James Potter and the bastard's son was just like him! But it was only a matter of time, of that Severus was sure. He would watch as Potter cried. He would make sure the boy lost everything just like he had lost everything when Lily died.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The next two weeks at Hogwarts went on without much of a fuss. Harry had been irritable for the first few days, but some quiet time with Daphne had managed to calm him down. He also began spending more time in the Room of Requirement, duelling against the practice dummies, his spells getting more violent by the day. He would not be weak. He knew that if Snape had chosen to attack him, Harry would have had arse handed to him. He was not stupid.

The Defence class was better than Harry expected. Professor Lupin began teaching them about curses and how to counter them. Since Harry studied ahead, he knew the theory, but the practical portion was good as well. His classmates were struggling with the spells because Lockhart had not taught them anything the previous year, but Sirius and Amelia had ensured that Harry was taught the subject well. He found himself helping those who were struggling in class and that was met with surprise from everyone. Professor Lupin did not acknowledge Harry as anything other than a student and Harry was perfectly fine with that.

With all that was going on, he hadn't had much time to interact with anyone except Daphne and a few minutes with Dylan every night. So when he entered the Great Hall for lunch during the end of the second week of school, he frowned when he saw no sign of Dylan. Harry had not come to the Great Hall much over the last two weeks, having a house-elf provide food for him in the Room of Requirement (being Lord Gryffindor had its perks, even if he could not use that title outside Hogwarts until he was seventeen) as he studied and practised magic. His notice-me-not charm was still active so he stood back and observed after casting a disillusionment charm on himself.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Dylan Lestrange was not having a good time at Hogwarts. This place turned out to be as bad as the orphanage. He thought Harry would be there for him, but the older boy was not always around, having a full schedule of classes, but he was touched that Harry had made it a point to talk to him every night despite being so busy. Astoria was the only one in his year who spoke to him. No one seemed to want anything to do with him. Daphne and her friends were alright and were quite nice to him, but they were older. Sure, Harry was older too, but it was _Harry_ and there was a difference. Then there were the bullies.

It had started off small on the second day of school. A trip jinx, jelly legs, something like that. But slowly, especially over the past week, it had become worse. He didn't want to go to the hospital wing in fear of retaliation so he hid his injuries under his robes and acted as though everything was fine; the biggest problem was hiding it from Harry every night, but he had somehow managed. He had to remain strong if he was going to survive here. He didn't want to let Harry down or Uncle Sirius and Aunt Amelia for that matter.

But the worst part was that for the past three days, the older students weren't letting him eat food in the Great Hall. None of the teachers noticed because the students were quite subtle. They used a variety of spells to ensure they were not caught. Dylan would barely be able to grab a few slices of toast before he was forced out. He was quite hungry. He knew that he had to tell Harry about it, but he didn't know how much sway Harry had over them. From what the older boy had told him, Harry's popularity had taken a massive beating the previous year. What could a thirteen-year-old boy do against a dozen seventeen-year-olds from all four Houses? Dylan had been called a bastard so many times over the last two weeks, it had already become routine for him. He had just traded one word for another, but he wasn't sure if being called a bastard instead of freak was any improvement.

Just as Dylan entered the Great Hall, he quickly made his way to the Ravenclaw table and grabbed a few slices of toast.

"Hello, Lestrange," said a voice quietly.

Dylan stiffened and turned towards the staff table. The boys were disillusioned as always. "Tell the teachers anything, Lestrange, and we'll make you regret it," growled a voice. "Now get lost. We don't want murderers in our school! Go back to the orphanage where you came from. No one wants you here!"

Dylan clenched his fists. He had heard that phrase too many times growing up. The anger had long since faded away. Each time he had been angry, he had been punished badly. He didn't have the strength to feel anger anymore. Just as he was about to leave the Great Hall, someone put their hand on his shoulder. He stiffened.

"Look at me," said Harry quietly, lifting the boy's chin with his hand. Harry looked into the boy's eyes and what he saw made his blood boil, his green eyes darkening.

"Well, if they don't let you sit at the House tables, we'll have to make ourselves comfortable on the floor!" said Harry with a dark smirk.

"What?" asked Dylan, still in a daze at seeing Harry at the Great Hall.

In response, Harry flicked his wand. A thick picnic mat appeared in the middle of the Great Hall. With another flick, comfortable pillows appeared as well. Everyone had stopped talking now and was staring at them. Supremely unconcerned, Harry sat down gracefully on the mat.

"Well, what are you standing over there for?" asked Harry with a teasing smile on his face. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Harry –" said Dylan uncertainly, his face flushed.

"Sit," said Harry firmly. "Trixie!"

A Hogwarts house-elf appeared in front of him. The Great Hall was silent as a grave. It was a very good thing that Dumbledore was away at some I.C.W. conference.

"What can Trixie do for young Master?" asked the elf.

"Trixie, could you please provide us with some food? A chocolate cheesecake too, for dessert, if you can manage it. It's Dylan's favourite."

"At once, Master Harry!" said the elf, beaming at him before it disappeared. When he saw Harry staring, Dylan flushed with embarrassment as he sat down next to Harry on the floor.

"Mr Potter, may I ask what you are doing?" asked Professor McGonagall angrily.

"Well, there are several students here who are denying Dylan to eat at the House tables or even eat at the Great Hall at all for that matter," Harry replied with a fake smile. "So, I thought something should be done about that. If they don't want Dylan there, I'll simply create another place for Dylan, simple as that!"

Snape was very tempted to say something, but he held his tongue. The incident two weeks ago was still fresh in his mind.

"Not allowed to eat?" repeated Professor McGonagall, her eyes flashing, hands trembling in anger. "Explain!"

"Why don't you ask Wallace and Taylor, Professor?" asked Harry, turning towards them, eyes burning with fury. "I'm sure they'll know more about it. In the meantime, Dylan here has not had a proper meal in three days. I need to do my duty as his older brother and ensure that he's well fed."

There was a collective intake of breath when Harry said that and Dylan's jaw dropped in shock as well. Trixie appeared in front of Harry, leaving delicious food all over the mat. Harry cut a piece of Shepard's Pie and put it on a plate for them both. When he was serving, a knowing smirk formed on his lips as another person sat next to him.

"Oh good, you have all my favourites," piped Daphne as she helped herself to food.

Dylan just gaped as Daphne began eating, not at all bothered that she was sitting on the floor amidst hundreds of students staring at them. He was startled to see Astoria sitting on his other side.

"Pass me a plate, Harry," she ordered.

"What do I look like, your waiter?" asked Harry with a mock frown. "Wait, don't answer that! I know what you'll say."

"For the record, you are what I say you are, so deal with it," Astoria smirked challengingly as she took a bite of her salad, ignoring the playful glare being sent her way.

"Budge along," said Fred and George as they sat down. "You really know how to throw a picnic, Harry!"

"I can't believe I'm doing this," muttered Blaise under his breath as he Tracy and Theo sat down as well. "You could have conjured a table, you know."

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"Any more room?" asked Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott and Padma Patil, taking a seat.

"Feel free!" Harry replied. He then looked at the stunned face of one Dylan Lestrange. Leaning forward, he whispered in the younger boy's ear, "I promised you that I wouldn't leave you alone. I will honour my promise, little brother."

Biting his lip to control his tears, Dylan opened his mouth only for Harry to feed him a spoonful of his favourite chocolate cheesecake.

A privacy charm ensured that they didn't have to listen to McGonagall yelling at the group of sixth and seventh-year students at the top of her voice. Harry mentally smirked in satisfaction.

No one messed with the people he cared about and got away with it. A wink from Fred and George got the confirmation he needed. The twins would take care of them now.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry demanded angrily.

"I-I thought I could handle it," Dylan cringed. Madam Pomfrey kept muttering about immature teenagers.

"I can't believe what this school has come to," spat Madam Pomfrey angrily as she healed Dylan's injuries. "A dozen seventh years picking on a first-year is utter cowardice, I tell you!"

Five minutes later, she finished. "You'll be fine, Mr Lestrange," she said. "Next time, don't be stubborn and actually come to me if something is bothering you. Merlin, why people are treating you like this is beyond me! I remember your mother and she was one of the sweetest people I have ever known!"

"You knew my mother?" asked Dylan in surprise.

"Yes, a very sweet and soft-spoken girl actually," said Madam Pomfrey with a sad smile. "She was a Hufflepuff, but she stuck to a very small group of friends. She used to spend a lot of time here because she had desired to become a Healer. But she left in the middle of her sixth year after her parents were attacked ..."

There was a momentary silence. "I don't know much about her personal life, Mr Lestrange, but I can tell you everything I know. If you are interested, you can come to my office this weekend. A few memories are better than none," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!" said Dylan excitedly. Once done, Harry led the boy to the Room of Requirement.

"The next time something like this happens, I want you to tell me immediately, got it?" said Harry firmly. "I won't have them treating you like this."

"I don't want to be a burden," said Dylan fidgeting.

Harry sighed as he sat down next to the boy. "Dylan, you are not a burden," he said quietly. "We have known each other for a few months now and you have already managed to break the ice with me. When I look at you, I see myself and trust me, that is not something I want to see in anybody. But I also care about you and I want to see you happy."

"Did you really mean that?" asked Dylan hopefully. "When you called me your little brother?"

"Of course I meant it," said Harry honestly. "Not many people can get close to me, but you succeeded in a short amount of time. You may not believe it and quite frankly I'm finding it hard to understand myself, but yes, I do consider you family."

Dylan threw his arms around Harry, hugging him tightly. Harry stiffened in panic but wrapped his arms around Dylan slowly too.

"Then you're my brother too."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

On the twenty-second of September, Harry, Andromeda Tonks, Susan and Susan's parents were in St Mungo's Hospital, waiting for Amelia to give birth. After waiting for two hours, the door opened and Elizabeth Greengrass, wearing her Healer's robes and looking slightly worn out beckoned them in.

"Everybody, I would like to introduce to you the newest member of our family," said Sirius, beaming with happiness. "Meet our son, Rigel Sirius Black, the new Heir Black."

Harry looked at the baby with a smile on his face. The baby was in Amelia's arms and he cuddled up to his mother, his hair turning from black to red.

"He's a Metamorphmagus!" exclaimed Susan in awe.

"It's a trait that is dominant in the Black family," explained Andromeda with a smile. "Dora started changing her hair colour when she was born too."

Harry looked at the baby fondly when Amelia cleared her throat. "We have also decided something else. Susan, Harry, will you both accept the honour of being Rigel's godparents?"

Susan squeaked in happiness as she nodded and Harry was quite stunned. "Of course, I would be honoured," said Harry with a small smile.

He pulled Sirius aside. "Can you set up the godfather ritual later on?" he asked quietly.

"Of course, Harry," said Sirius with a smile. "I did the same for you when you were born. It is quite simple, actually. Let the rest of them leave and we'll have it done."

About two hours later, the others had all left and Harry was holding the sleeping infant in his arms. The boy looked really adorable and Harry lightly tickled his cheek, making the infant smile in his sleep.

"I don't think I have ever seen anything so beautiful in my life," said Harry softly.

Amelia smiled. "Wait until you get to babysit him," she said teasingly.

Harry chuckled. Sirius gave him a slip of parchment which had the words of the oath and Harry took his oath as Rigel's godfather that he would do his duty to protect him and take care of him. After spending some more time there, he returned to Hogwarts with a smile on his face.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Things had smoothened out nicely after the incident in the Great Hall. Some of Dylan's classmates hesitantly decided to give him a chance and Harry was happy to see that they weren't actively shunning him anymore. The boy was also quite close to Astoria and the two of them seemed to spend time in the library doing homework or Astoria teaching him about pureblood culture. Of course, people were still calling him a bastard, but Dylan had learnt how to deal with that thanks to Astoria's help. If anyone called him that anymore, he would just raise his hand and showed them the Lestrange heir ring on his ring finger, signifying his position even if he was born out of wedlock. That was enough to shut most of them up. The rest couldn't be helped.

Harry had also been receiving funny looks from Neville Longbottom. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Neville realised the truth, so when the Gryffindor boy asked if they could talk privately, he had no reason not to oblige.

"Harry, what the hell is going on?" began Neville, his eyes wide with panic. "I-I was told that L-Lestrange was just like his father and that I should stay away from him. My gran said that it was a mistake to let him come to Hogwarts and that he will be just like R-Rabastan. But after observing him, h-he doesn't act like that at all!"

Harry sighed. "Look, Neville, I'm not blaming you for thinking that way. Your grandmother is too set in her ways and the incident with your parents has created a block against the name Lestrange. Her paranoia and anger at Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan have taken a new target. She has been quite outspoken in the Wizengamot about not allowing Dylan to come to Hogwarts. What she doesn't realise is that Dylan is not Rabastan! The poor boy didn't even know who his parents were until this summer. He was raised in a Muggle orphanage and trust me, living among Muggles when you are a wizard is not paradise. Your grandmother, in her anger at all things Lestrange, is targeting a child."

Looking at Neville, Harry continued. "Tell me, what would happen if the three of them broke out from Azkaban and found out that there is a half-blood who now wears the heir ring to their family? How do you think Bellatrix would react were she to realise that the heir of the Lestrange line to which she is the Lady of, is a bastard born out of wedlock? How do you think they would react were they to realise that he is the son of a Muggle-born?"

Neville swallowed. "He would be killed," he whispered.

"Exactly," said Harry calmly. "Your grandmother needs to stop blaming a child for the actions of his father. If I had done the same I would have bloody murdered Draco Malfoy already for his father's role in Daphne's petrification last term. But I didn't do that. I don't blame Draco for Lucius' crimes. Why does she not blame Narcissa? Isn't she the younger sister of Bellatrix? What about Crouch Senior for his son's role in the crime?"

"I get your point," said Neville. They stayed silent for ten minutes, looking at the beautiful Scottish scenery outside the Astronomy tower. "Do you think I can apologise to him?" he asked quietly.

Harry snorted. "Trust me, he will not hold it against you. He's too sweet for his own good. Daphne and Astoria actually think it's cute."

Neville snickered as they climbed down the stairs.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I have read reviews where you have all disliked how Neville acted, but he was misinformed. It happens to the best of us and it is usually misinformation which leads to the best of relationships falling apart. Now that Neville has seen the truth for himself, he might try to see the true side of Dylan and not just his last name. Also, we have finally reached the part where Harry puts Snape in his place! I wanted to write something from Snape's point of view, showing how everything affected him, but the truth is that I hate Snape with all my heart, so I couldn't bring myself to do it. I can never forget how he tortured Harry during those Occlumency lessons and I still believe he did it deliberately. Oh well! Thanks for the reviews!_**


	17. Historic escape

**_Chapter 17_**

 ** _Historic Escape_**

Peter Pettigrew was in misery. He had not left this cell in nearly two years! The wards here prevented him from turning into his Animagus form as well. There was a mad glint in his eye as he laughed, watching the warden who was approaching him. The man was going to inspect his cell all alone? Without any backup? The fool! But of course, he was poor little Wormtail who was not talented in magic. It was always about James and Sirius ... who remembered poor little Peter when the Potter and Black heirs were nearby? Those two had _everything_! The money, the brains, magical power, good looks and dozens of pretty girls running after them, craving their attention … and what did he have? Nothing!

It didn't take long for him to kill the pitiful wizard in his anger.

Picking up the dead warden's wand, Peter transformed for the first time in two years now that he was out of his cell. Scurrying about, he found his robes in the place where he was forced to remove them. Peter was glad that the secret pouch in the robes was enchanted by a spell taught to the Death Eaters by the Dark Lord himself. No one knew about it and it could not be detected by common D.M L.E. employees. Wearing his old clothes and checking if he had his master's wand with him, Peter transformed to get closer and quickly cast the Imperius Curse on two of the high-level wardens. That, in turn, led to them going into their office to retrieve the ward scheme for the cell doors.

The mad glint in his eye showed how happy he was at the sight of the doors of nine other cells opening wide an hour later. _Ha!_ So much for high-security prisoners! The stupid Ministry relied too much on Dementors! It was something Dumbledore used to complain about back then but nobody listened to him. There was also very limited security provided by the Aurors on weekends because nearly all the Aurors and wardens let the Dementors do the job, not wanting to be there more than five days a week; something which went unnoticed by Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour until now.

"Hello Wormy," said the babyish voice of Bellatrix as she grinned widely. "Looks like you've finally done something useful with that ability of yours. Maybe we can play with the wardens for a while."

"We need to leave, Bella," said Rodolphus Lestrange firmly, taking her hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze, happy to be reunited again. "Dolohov, did you get the wands from the vault in the Head Warden's office?"

Dolohov nodded as he passed their wands back to the rest.

"Let's not waste our chance," snarled Rookwood. "Move!"

"Don't worry about the Dementors," said Bellatrix, with a mad grin painted on her face. "I have had twelve years to convince them."

"To the Dark Lord!" whispered Rabastan.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry's face was devoid of all emotion as he sat in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. His breakfast was left untouched. Sitting beside him was Dylan, shaking in fear, face pale, as he read the headlines on the _Magical Daily_ newspaper.

 _MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN!_

 _Ten high-security prisoners escape the former escape-proof fortress!_

 _LESTRANGES AT LARGE AGAIN!_

 _Peter Pettigrew suspected of helping Death Eaters escape using his rat Animagus – wardens found dead at Azkaban_

 _SENSOR NET AROUND BRITAIN AND IRELAND STRENGTHENED_

 _International Floo and Portkey travel tightened_

 _"BOY-WHO-LIVED A MAJOR TARGET,"_ _SAYS MINISTER FUDGE_

 _Muggle Prime Minister warned about impending attacks_ _on the Muggle world_

 _"BE VIGILANT," WARNS DIRECTOR AMELIA BLACK,_ _HEAD OF THE D.M.L.E._

 _"Aurors deployed all over the country. Please cooperate with them,"_ _says Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour_

 _DEMENTORS TO HELP WITH THE SEARCH – TO ALSO BE STATIONED AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL_

 _"We cannot rely on Dementors; they are as dangerous as the escaped convicts," says Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore_

 _"WE HAVE EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL,"_ _says Minister Fudge._

 _How far is the truth?_

 _KNOW YOUR ENEMY –_

 _Antonin Dolohov – convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett_

 _Augustus Rookwood – convicted of leaking highly classified Ministry of Magic information to You-Know-Who_

 _Peter Pettigrew – convicted of the betrayal that led to the murders of James and Lily Potter and also the illegal incarceration of Sirius Black and deaths of thirteen Muggles_

 _Maximus Jugson – convicted of the brutal murders of the members of the Ancient and Noble House of McKinnon_

 _Timothy Travers – convicted of the murder and decapitation of Benjy Fenwick_

 _Thorfinn Rowle – convicted of the brutal murders of Edger Bones and other members of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones_

 _Thaddeus Mulcibur – convicted of placing the Imperius Curse on several employees of the Ministry of Magic_

 _Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange – convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom_

People everywhere were shocked to stillness, terrified at what they were reading. Newspapers were being read and the _Magical Daily News_ channel on the newly developed E-Mirror was running in all households as they listened to experts give information on how to ward and protect your home. The sales of the mirrors increased drastically as the others fled to the stop. Information such as that was pure gold.

"That's him?" asked Dylan in a small voice as he looked at the snarling moving photograph of Rabastan Lestrange.

"Yes," said Harry quietly.

"I can see the resemblance somewhat. Harry, what are we going to do?"

Harry remained quiet, staring at Dumbledore who was quietly talking to Severus Snape. "I don't know; I just don't know."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry gritted his teeth as he searched for that blasted diadem. He had been at this for nearly two months now. Because of the memories he had accessed when he saw the diary and Hufflepuff's Cup, he was able to know the location of the other Horcruxes. Ravenclaw's diadem was here somewhere in the Room of Requirement. The ring was placed in the shack that once belonged to the Gaunts, but Harry had no idea where the hell that was. Slytherin's locket was in a cave, the location of which Harry didn't know. It was turning out to be frustrating because the room here was so huge that it was difficult to locate the diadem!

Turning into his Animagus form, the golden eagle soared above the junk, occasionally landing on something so that he could observe. It had been a week since the Death Eaters had escaped Azkaban and Harry was on edge. The reason was twofold – one, the Death Eaters were out there, especially Bellatrix who would love to get her hands on the Boy-Who-Lived. Two, there were a bloody hundred Dementors outside Hogwarts castle.

Harry hated the Dementors. The day after they had arrived, when Harry had gone for his usual morning run, he felt something he had never felt before. The cold was horrible and the grounds were dark. He could feel the negative emotions in the air, making him miserable. Bad memories resurfaced but thanks to his Occlumency, he was able to shield himself long enough to get back to the castle. He had since been working out in the Room every morning along with practising the Patronus Charm after having been explained the theory by his Aunt Amelia. Merlin knows he didn't want to be defenceless with those beasts around.

Flying back to the ground, the eagle transformed back into a human as Harry used the point me spell again. He had done this so many times that he felt like burning the entire place with Fiendfyre and be done with it! But he couldn't do that. For one, there were some really good treasures here that he was quietly shipping off to Potter Castle using his elves. Really, no one was going to miss it. Another point me spell showed the bust of an ugly witch with a diadem on it. Another memory slammed into his mind.

 _He laughed loudly as he removed the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw from under the tree stump in Albania. Stupid Helena; did the ghost really think he would help her and return it to Hogwarts as a lost treasure? Never! He was Lord Voldemort. It belonged to him and him alone. He would turn it into a Horcrux at the first available opportunity. Then, it would be returned home. He would place the diadem in the one place he was confident no one other than him knew about at Hogwarts; right under Dumbledore's crooked nose._

Harry gasped as he came out of the memory. This was the Horcrux. Levitating it from on top of the bust, he asked the Room to change. The surroundings shimmered and a ritual room appeared with a book on a pedestal. Harry smirked. This was the ritual he and Sirius had found in the Potter library – an ancient cleansing ritual that got rid of the taint of dark magic on any device. It would not get rid of the Horcrux, but it would take care of any lingering dark magic to make the diadem taint-free.

Harry placed the diadem on the ground. Pointing his wand at the item, he summoned all the hatred he could muster.

His eyes were an eerie blackish-green as he snarled, " _Avada Kedavra!_ "

A jet of pale green light impacted the diadem, making it wobble and scream loudly. After it stopped moving, Harry checked the diadem for the soul piece using the spell which Sirius had found in the book of Scorpius Black III. It had been destroyed.

Levitating the diadem to the ritual pentagram, Harry began chanting the words in ancient Greek as he walked around the diadem. Fifteen minutes of chanting later, he found the diadem to be red hot. With a final incantation, he swished his wand, pouring water on it. Slowly picking up the diadem, he scanned it. From what he could tell, there were no more additional spells cast aside from what Rowena cast herself. Swallowing his nervousness, he placed the diadem on his head and closed his eyes.

One hour later, Harry's lips curved into a smile. "Lady Rowena, you were a genius," he whispered to himself. The diadem innocently glinted under the light from the fireplace.

The diadem of Ravenclaw did not bestow the wearer with superior intelligence. It actually worked on a more fundamental principle in that it allowed the wearer to remember everything he had in his mind – an artificial eidetic memory. Harry, being a natural Occlumens already possessed a perfect recall memory, but he had been unable to access Voldemort's memories which were in his mind. He had only gained the passive abilities from those memories, helping him with his practical application of magic, making it much easier for him to learn it in the process.

But now, thanks to the diadem, Harry was able to access all of Voldemort's memories which were in his mind. He would truly learn from the Dark Lord like a student would from a teacher by viewing the memories. He would be the Dark Lord's equal, even if would take some time and a lot of effort.

Most importantly, as he accessed more memories, he would be able to know the location and defences of the rest of the Horcruxes.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Mr Lestrange, the Headmaster would like to speak to you," said Professor McGonagall, giving the boy a rare smile. "Please stay behind after class."

 _Oh, Merlin_ , thought Dylan. He nodded to her but gripped the locket with the Potter crest that was hanging from around his neck. It was something which Harry had given him after the mass breakout from Azkaban; he had seen Daphne wear a similar one too. Harry had said that if Dylan ever needed him, to grip the locket tightly and call for him. It was connected to the locket which Harry wore himself.

Once the class was over, Dylan was being escorted to the seventh floor when Harry came towards them from one of the corridors leading to the Head's office.

"Ah, Dylan," he nodded. "You're already here. Good, let's go."

"What are you doing here, Mr Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall in surprise. "Mr Lestrange has a meeting with the Headmaster."

"I know, Professor," said Harry. "That's why I'm here."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she frowned at him. "What does that have to do with you?"

"I have this letter here from our guardian, Lord Sirius Black, which says that Dylan is not to meet the Headmaster unless I'm present at all times. It's just a precaution."

"Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I do not like the implication you have just made."

"It's no secret that Sirius and I don't trust the Headmaster," Harry told her. He turned to the gargoyle and said, " _Acid Pops._ "

Professor McGonagall wondered how Harry had known about the meeting so quickly, not to mention how he knew the password to Dumbledore's office. Maybe it had something to do with his title as Lord Gryffindor? She knew for a fact that Dumbledore was not at all pleased when that information had come to light. She wondered what other powers Harry had over the castle.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

When he heard a knock on the door, Albus Dumbledore smiled as he called, "Come in."

But this good mood was spoilt when he saw Dylan Lestrange being escorted by Harry Potter. It was not that Harry wasn't welcome, but not at _this_ particular meeting. How was he to influence Dylan if Harry was here as well?

"Harry, what are you doing here?" asked Dumbledore, looking confused. "I asked only for young Dylan."

 _'Ah, using his first name like you do mine so as to induce familiarity, just as Sirius said you would. We already know of that trick, you old goat.'_

"Oh, I know you only asked for Dylan," said Harry calmly as he casually put an arm around the younger's boy's shoulders; the height difference was quite noticeable. "But I have a letter from our guardian saying that if you want to talk to Dylan, I am to be present at all times. Nothing against you, Professor, but it's just that I feel protective of him."

"I see," said Dumbledore as he looked at the sheet of parchment. The seal of the Head of House Black was present. "Well, in that case, do sit down."

Harry sat down regally as always and Dylan sat next to him, looking around curiously. His eyes lit up when he saw the phoenix which trilled at him happily, something which Dumbledore did not overlook.

"Ah, I see you have noticed my familiar," said Dumbledore smiling happily. "This is Fawkes. He is a phoenix, Dylan. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers second to none and they are also amazingly loyal. In fact, young Harry here would not be sitting with us today if not for Fawkes healing him last term."

"Yes," said Harry, his voice devoid of emotion. "He likes me and I'm fond of him as well."

Dumbledore chuckled, wondering mentally if it was a good sign. Did Fawkes really like him? Did that mean there was hope to bring Harry back to the light? Mentally he was dancing in joy! He hadn't done that in a while. Those Dementors reminded him of what happened to his father and how he had died in Azkaban, bringing bad memories of Ariana and Gellert to the forefront of his mind. He really hated those creatures and was disgusted that they were stationed so close to Hogwarts, a school filled with children.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Dylan," Dumbledore smiled warmly. "How have you been adjusting to Hogwarts over the past two months? I have heard from all your teachers that you are doing quite well in your classes."

"It's much better than my earlier life, Professor," said Dylan smiling brightly, but Dumbledore noticed that the boy would not meet his eyes.

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head sadly. "It truly is sad what happened to you, my dear boy. I'm sure life has not been easy for you, but as I always say, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times. You need to look for the light, young Dylan."

Harry mentally snorted as he gave points to Dumbledore. What a fine way of telling Dylan that the 'light' was good and the 'dark' was bad, especially given the recent escape of the boy's father and the rest of the Death Eaters.

"My life was turned around when Harry and Uncle Sirius found me," said Dylan, looking at Harry with respect and affection shining in his eyes. "I found two adults who decided to take me into their family and a big brother I know I can always count on. When I have them, what more do I need?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ah, yes," he said slowly. "I'm quite curious about how you bonded so quickly. For someone who met only about four months back, you have already established that you consider each other siblings. Curious, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, I don't know about that, Professor," said Harry, leaning back in the chair as he crossed his legs, looking very much like a prince of the realm. "Dylan and I have a lot of things in common and it was easy for us to bond. Both of us are technically orphans and were raised in an abusive environment. I spent several days in the hospital with him when he was there and we just clicked. I, unfortunately, will never be able to have siblings considering that my parents are dead, but if I wouldn't trade Dylan for anyone in the world."

"Hmm," said Dumbledore, stroking his beard. He had underestimated just how much Harry cared for the boy.

"How are you feeling about the whole incident with Azkaban, Dylan?" asked Dumbledore gently. "I'm sure it is not easy knowing who your father is. He was actually a nice boy when he was your age. Sure, he and his brother had a tendency to practice the Dark Arts, but no one could have imagined them turning into something like this. They were enamoured with Lord Voldemort and his ideals and it twisted them. I know it is not easy being Rabastan's son, knowing that he has escaped Azkaban and is roaming free."

"Where are you going with this, Professor?" asked Dylan slowly. "If you're worried that I would seek out my father then you are worried about nothing. I know that he will kill me the second he realises who I am. He may be my father, but Harry, Uncle Sirius, Aunt Amelia and little Rigel are my family now."

Dylan felt his hand being squeezed comfortingly and he let out a shaky breath. He had not felt very certain about that last part, wondering if they truly thought of him as part of the family but this was certainly a confirmation. His chest tightened as he felt a warm emotion in his heart.

"I'm happy for you, my boy," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "It is for that reason I must insist that you stay at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. It is not safe to leave the confines of the school and the wards would more than compensate for any lack of protection which would be provided to you. You need to be safe."

"Excuse me?" said Harry haughtily. "Déjà vu, Headmaster. I seem to remember something similar about me staying at Privet Drive for my own protection. Lack of protection? Do you think we would abandon him somewhere during the holidays? Absolutely not! Dylan is not staying here alone. I repeat, the war wards I can raise around Potter Castle are more than sufficient to keep us safe. Black Manor too is quite safe and I don't think Bellatrix would be stupid enough to attack us there. Hogwarts is actually the last place we should be. I don't deny the wards around the castle are excellent, but they are severely compromised due to the thousands of students who have been here. Secrets can be learnt; they don't stay secret for long."

"I am only looking out for him, Harry," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "Just like how I was looking out for you when I said that you should have returned to Petunia. But you never listened and now that her family has moved away, there is no point in talking about it."

Harry's eyes grew colder. "Is that all, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore sighed as he dismissed them. Well, he did learn some valuable information, but he had never expected for a moment for the insistence of staying at Hogwarts would work. He needed people to check the wards around Potter Castle, just in case.

"Severus, can you come up to my office, please?"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," chanted Harry. A bright silver mist formed from the tip of his wand, but it didn't take a corporeal form.

"Why wouldn't it work?" said Harry, his eye twitching in annoyance.

"You're trying too hard," said Daphne, pushing him back on a soft armchair. "You need a distraction."

"And what would that be?" he asked, smiling slightly. Daphne smirked as she sat down next to him and cupped his face, nuzzling his face against hers.

"Do you want me to tell you or show you?" she whispered lightly as she kissed his cheek.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and another stroking her soft, wavy dark blonde hair, Harry leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They moved in sync as they both smiled into the kiss.

"Maybe I should use this for a happy memory," said Harry, smiling at her. He looked into her deep blue eyes as his smile slowly faded. "Daphne, what is love?" he asked curiously.

"What?" asked Daphne, blinking owlishly at his sudden question.

"Love," said Harry slowly. "When someone says that they love you, what does that _mean_?"

Daphne's heart melted at the innocent question posed to her by her fiancé. Her eyes filled with furious tears when she realised that Harry had never grown up feeling such emotion. Thanks to his less than happy childhood and his natural Occlumency barriers, he tended to suppress his emotions nearly all the time. He was emotionally stunted, so naturally, unused to emotion, so he didn't know what love meant, having never experienced the warmth of a mother's hug. Had Harry been raised by his parents or Sirius, they would have identified the problem and sought out Mind Healers at an early age, but without help, he was feeling overwhelmed and confused. No one had explained it to him for him to understand.

"Love is an emotion when –" she began but didn't know what to say. How do you explain love? "It is a strong feeling of affection you feel for someone you care about. There are different forms of love. There is romantic love between two romantic partners. Then there is parental love which one feels for their mother and father or the love a parent feels for their child. There is the sibling love which one feels for their brother or sister. It comes in various forms and intensity and it can be a wonderful thing."

"Really?" asked Harry, looking thoughtful. He sounded like an inquisitive four-year-old child. Sadly, when it came to understanding emotions, Daphne's assessment wasn't far from the truth.

"Do people who love someone care deeply for the other?"

"That's how it is supposed to work, yes," said Daphne slowly. "In its truest form, when one person loves another, be in any form of relationship, you tend to think of them and their happiness before yourself. Your parents stood in front of Voldemort and fought him till their dying breath to protect you. That shows how much they loved you."

Harry swallowed. He had never thought about love like that before. "Is that the parental love you were talking about?" he asked. "Then what about what I feel for Sirius and Aunt Amelia?"

"That is also another form of parental love," explained Daphne patiently. "They are the closest thing you have to parents and they treat you like their own son. They obviously love you and I'm sure you care deeply about them too."

"What about Dylan and Astoria?"

Daphne smiled slightly. "I know that both of them care deeply about you. Dylan's adoration for you is clear as day for anyone to see it. He idolises you and I can't tell you how much it meant to him when you called him your brother in front of everyone in the Great Hall. Astoria might be sarcastic towards you and may tease you constantly, but that's her way of showing that she cares. Love can be expressed in all kinds of ways."

Harry's eyes moistened despite himself. "What about you? Do you love me?"

Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face against his. "I do love you, Harry," she said softly. "I love you very much."

"I – I think I love you too," whispered Harry as they cuddled on the armchair in front of the roaring fireplace, lost in their own world.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The Quidditch season had finally started at Hogwarts. Roger Davies was now made the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and he was explaining the strategy for today's game. The weather was horrible and people could barely see what was going on. Heavy rain was pelting against the ground and Harry wondered, not for the first time, why they were playing in such conditions. International Quidditch matches were all weather controlled and had covered stadiums.

"Look, I know the conditions aren't ideal," said Roger. "But we won the Quidditch Cup last year and we have to win this year too! We have the best team in the school, so let's show them what we eagles can do."

Casting charms on themselves to repel rain so as to see better, they kicked off from the ground. Because of the weather, Harry did not bother playing an interfering seeker but instead kept looking for the snitch. The Hufflepuff team captain and seeker Cedric Diggory was somewhere nearby as well.

When the score was 80-60, Harry suddenly spotted a glint of gold in the air. Apparently, Cedric had spotted it too because he went after it. Higher and higher they went and the rain pelted against their faces, lightning flashing. Harry zoomed ahead of Cedric, his natural instincts as an eagle guiding him and he smirked in triumph as his left fist closed around the snitch.

Precisely at that moment, the temperature dropped drastically. The Nimbus Thousand and One which he was riding was rapidly being covered in ice. The already dark stadium was plunged into darkness and Harry realised what was happening when bad memories assaulted him. He was in complete shock at what he was seeing.

Fudge had lied.

There were not a hundred dementors placed at Hogwarts. There were about three hundred of those foul demons circling the Quidditch pitch. Knowing that he was only seconds away from being kissed, Harry flicked his wand to his hand, remembered his conversation with Daphne when they confessed their love to each other and shouted –

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!"

An enormous creature burst from the tip of Harry's wand. If he had to guess, Harry would have thought the creature was probably sixteen feet in height. It was a Thunderbird.

Below, in the stands, people began panicking as the Dementors descended towards them. Daphne had also practised the Patronus Charm, but she had never succeeded in conjuring a corporeal patronus before. But she knew the theory, so she tried it again. Summoning all her happy memories and emotions and thinking of the time Harry told her that he loved her, she pointed her wand at the incoming Dementors and shouted –

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!"

A large tigress burst from the tip of her wand and charged at the incoming Dementors. Daphne looked stunned for a moment at seeing the patronus as she saw an enormous silver bird in the sky as well. Harry must have created a patronus too.

The staff of Hogwarts also realised that unless they helped, the students would all be kissed. Several of them got up and pointed their wands in the air and yelled –

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

Numerous, the Dementors may be, but they were no match against the combined assault of so many powerful patroni. The massive Thunderbird patronus stood proud and regal amongst them all, towering over the rest as it chased away the last of the soul-sucking demons. Even though the rest of the patroni faded away, the thunderbird still remained as Harry slowly descended to the ground, shaking badly. The patronus approached him, bathing him in warmth. He couldn't help but swell with emotion as he touched it.

"Thank you, my friend," whispered Harry as the enormous thunderbird patronus disappeared.

Mayhem gripped Hogwarts as several students had fainted due to the Dementor exposure. Albus Dumbledore looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him and one look at the Headmaster's face let him know that the Dementors would be gone from the school the next day; the aura around the aged Headmaster was something Harry had never felt before. It was a testament to how furious Dumbledore truly was.

He was right. After the disastrous incident, Dumbledore had wasted no time to head to the Ministry to talk to Fudge. The next morning's newspaper article about the attack of the Dementors on hundreds of young witches and wizards made Fudge want to weep. He was still licking his wounds from seeing Albus Dumbledore the previous day. Nobody had seen the Chief Warlock that angry before and Fudge understood then and there why the man was considered one of the most powerful wizards in the world.

The Dementors were ordered back to Azkaban the next day. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade breathed a sigh of relief, but there was a war going on in London. Not a physical one, but a political one. Fudge had essentially committed political suicide. He would not last even a month in office anymore after the disaster with Azkaban and the Dementors at Hogwarts. The war was about who the next Minister of Magic was going to be.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _Pandemonium._

That was the best word that could be used to describe the Wizengamot, the legislative and highest judicial body of Magical Britain and Ireland. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge was shrinking in his seat as the shouting got louder. It wasn't his fault! He had just followed the advice of his Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge, but no one cared about that! No, all of them were talking about him.

"Those bloody soul-sucking leeches should never have been placed at Hogwarts in the first place!" screeched Lady Acton furiously.

"Now, now, I'm sure Minister Fudge was just doing what he thought was best to protect our children," said Lord Lucius Malfoy smoothly. "The decision was taken bearing in mind the danger posed to the common folk after the mass breakout from Azkaban."

"Dumbledore told him that the Dementors were not trustworthy," snapped Samantha Hudson, an elected representative. "They should be confined at Azkaban where they belong! Our children could have been kissed! I'm surprised you are so calm about this, Lucius. Wasn't your own son admitted to the hospital wing after the attack?"

"While that is true, I see no reason to blame our esteemed Minister for it," said Lucius. "The breakout was hardly his fault. If the D.M.L.E. had done their job properly, we wouldn't be in this position."

"Normally I would claim responsibility for any mistakes made on my part and my department, Lord Malfoy," said Lady Amelia Black, her voice booming. "But this time, my department cannot be blamed. I have repeatedly asked for an increase in the money allocated to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but the Budget Committee keeps diverting money to other departments which don't require those additional funds. Many people over the centuries have shared their distrust of Dementors and yet no one listens! If more Aurors and wardens could be placed at the prison instead of relying on the Dementors to do all our work, then such a problem could be avoided in the future. Think about it for a minute. Five wardens were killed during the escape. There are thousands of Dementors at Azkaban. How can ten high-security prisoners leave the island unless they had help?"

"What are you saying, Lady Black?" asked Mr Doge.

"I'm saying we should look at other options and stop relying on Dementors because they aren't trustworthy. Start streamlining the budget for one and give it to important departments. My department is the one which maintains law and order in the country, for Merlin's sake! If we don't have funds, who is to take care of the people?"

"Are you saying that your department alone is important?" shouted the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, Corban Yaxley.

"Members of the Wizengamot," said Sirius, standing up. "There are ten high-security prisoners on the loose; all of them inner circle Death Eaters. This situation would never have existed if we had actually taken action twelve years ago. Each one of them has committed mass murder. Those people should never have been sent to Azkaban in the first place. They should have been executed!"

"Is that so, Lord Black?" asked Dumbledore sharply. "If that had been done twelve years ago, then you would not be alive as of this moment."

"Yes, thank you so much for reminding me of my ten years of illegal incarceration in that hellhole, Chief Warlock," said Sirius sarcastically. "If the people responsible for granting me a trial had done their job, I wouldn't have lost ten years of my life and my godson wouldn't have had to grow up in an abusive household. Thank you very much!"

"Execution is not something we consider good for the society," said Lord Nott. "It is better if they are imprisoned."

"If we can find them," Amelia added bitterly.

"Really?" asked Sirius sarcastically. "You think pushing such people through the Veil of Death is more inhumane than making them stay in Azkaban for life? I would love to speak more about this but that's not the point of this meeting. We're not here to talk about the living conditions in Azkaban but about the safety of the people of Magical Britain. All of you please realise that at times like this, we must act! If we sit here talking about budget cuts and the past, it won't solve anything."

"We are currently a laughing stock in the international community! We have to catch the escaped Death Eaters before the Quidditch World Cup this summer. Millions of Galleons of taxpayers' money have been invested in it and what now? Can we let it all vanish because we are not willing to fund the most important department in the Ministry at a time of need? How do you expect Hogwarts to host the Triwizard Tournament if the visiting schools don't feel safe?"

"What do you suggest, Lord Black?" asked Dumbledore.

Sirius took a deep breath. "Magical means of transport have been cut off," he explained. "The sensor net has been strengthened to the maximum level possible around the borders. If magical means of escape is not possible, then the only other alternative is leaving the country through mundane modes of transport that cannot be tracked. Tell the Muggle Prime Minister to use the army he has at his disposal and monitor every method one could possibly use to leave Britain. We can focus our efforts on chasing them inland. If they reach the continent, they will not be under our control! It is still not too late. We need to act!"

"You can't be serious!" scoffed Lady Rosier. "You expect those Muggles to actually find the escaped convicts?"

"Maybe not, but it will give us an edge," snapped Amelia. "Our Aurors are spread thin as it is and we don't have the personnel to carry out the large-scale search which Lord Black is suggesting. Time is of the essence! The quickest available option is for us is to use the superior numbers of the Muggles. It may not work, but why leave it to chance? Even if we capture a single Death Eater, it brings us that much closer to finding the rest!"

Lucius Malfoy pursed his lips in frustration. Sirius and Amelia were getting more powerful in the political sphere by the day. He had tried to contact the escaped Death Eaters, but they obviously didn't trust any of those who had evaded Azkaban. Lucius had no option but to wait and hope for the best. He didn't know what Bellatrix and the rest were attempting. The Dark Lord was dead. What could they hope to achieve?

"I feel that this current administration does not have the capacity to lead us in these dire times," said Lord Cyrus Greengrass calmly.

Fudge whimpered.

"I suggest that new leadership is needed. I hereby call for a vote of no confidence in Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge."

"Seconded," said Sirius.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I have always wondered why Dumbledore felt love was the power the Dark Lord knows not. To be honest, it was something which Harry didn't know either. A boy who was treated with scorn and disdain for all his life by his relatives would not know love, but as it was pointed out to me, that's what makes canon Harry special. I felt it was another way for Dumbledore to manipulate Harry into sacrificing himself for the good of the people he cares about. So, any guesses on who the Minister of Magic is going to be? Thanks for the reviews!_**


	18. The Minister of Magic

**_Chapter 18_**

 ** _The Minister of Magic_**

In early November, the _Magical Daily_ had reported the impeachment of Cornelius Fudge from office as Minister of Magic. The vote of no confidence called by Lord Cyrus Greengrass had been backed by a majority of the Wizengamot and even the public was all for it. They had enough of the incompetent Minister and they wanted someone who would act.

The election for the office of the Minister of Magic was complex. The people who wished to run for office needed support from both the public as well as the members of the Wizengamot. Those who believed they had support would submit their names to the Chief Warlock. The contestants would then do their best to sway the masses and once the election campaign was done, the election would be held. All citizens of Magical Britain and Ireland who were above the age of seventeen had the right to vote. The top three contestants who had the majority of the votes would then proceed to the Wizengamot. The members would then vote on who they wanted as Minister. The witch or wizard who won the confidence of the Wizengamot would be sworn in as Minister. He or she held office for the next seven years. But as Minister Fudge found out, they could be impeached early if the Wizengamot reached a majority which was not as easy as people thought. Fudge was only the second Minister to be impeached in the last two hundred and fifty years.

The Chief Warlock, on the other hand, was someone who was elected only by members of the Wizengamot. After Fudge's disgraced exit, Dumbledore was filled to the brim with work. Until the new Minister was appointed, he was the Acting Minister with limited powers. The Chief Warlock was a powerful post, but it was quite different from that of the Minister. Both of them were equally important. Right now, there was a tight race between the candidates. Dumbledore had extended his support to Amos Diggory from the side of the liberals. He had a good feeling about that win until he received an affidavit from the newest contestant.

Sirius Orion Black, the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, the Regent of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter, Gryffindor and Lestrange, husband to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was contesting for the post of Minister of Magic. Dumbledore felt his plans crashing around his ears. At any other time, he wouldn't have been worried, but he had sensed the subtle shift in power in the Wizengamot over the recent months, especially after Harry's elevation to Heir Gryffindor and the appearance of Dylan Lestrange. Since then, Sirius and Amelia had not been afraid to make bold speeches which they otherwise wouldn't dare. Sirius already had the support of the traditionalists through intimidation and blackmail. The centrists were firmly in the pocket of Cyrus Greengrass who would support Sirius. The liberals could see that Sirius could offer them better protection than Amos Diggory.

It was an outstanding move.

However, Dumbledore was not out of options. The best way to undermine Sirius' support base was to subtly destroy his credibility amongst the public. While he was doing that, he also stirred the Bowtruckle's nest with the traditionalists so that they would drop Sirius and choose a new candidate.

It had worked ... for a while. He had not anticipated one important variable.

Harry Potter – the Boy-Who-Lived.

When Harry had realised what Dumbledore was up to he had swiftly taken charge on the advice of his godfather. With a few well-placed interviews in the _Magical Daily_ and the E-Mirror channel of the _Magical_ _Daily News_ , he soon had people flocking to Sirius, making them look like they had been betrayed by everyone, including Albus Dumbledore. The questions Harry had raised regarding the Fidelius Charm, the Potter Will and Sirius' incarceration made Dumbledore's job more difficult.

Meanwhile, in the Wizengamot, Dumbledore's plans seemed to have succeeded. Sirius certainly struggled for a while there, which was when Harry entered the fray with the public, leaving his godfather to take charge of the governing body. Corban Yaxley had been given support from the traditionalists and they were not willing to support Sirius. It was a difficult time for Sirius, but he finally managed to overcome the difficulties. Lord Aiden Avery and Lord Theodore Nott Sr realised once again why the Blacks were not to be messed with. Discreet information given to the press had the two families backtracking, not wanting their family secrets aired to tens of thousands of people in the country. Yaxley's nomination was withdrawn, leaving Sirius to take his place again as the leader of the dark faction.

So by the last week of December, Sirius Black had been voted in by the public by a landslide, easily outstripping Amos Diggory. In the Wizengamot, Sirius was favoured by different people for different reasons.

The traditionalists might be somewhat under control, but they wanted a pureblood on the Minister's seat and Sirius was qualified. He was from one of the oldest pureblood families in Europe, so it certainly helped. He was also married to another powerful pureblood witch. Even though Amelia Black was hated and feared at the same time, her power in the Ministry of Magic was undeniable. The icing on the cake was that Sirius Black hated Albus Dumbledore. An enemy's enemy was your friend, and this certainly applied to the traditionalists.

The centrists would go with the popular vote and they usually sided with the one who had the best chance to win. It did help matters that Sirius' policies were centric, increasing their potential power block. The liberals, while under the control of Albus Dumbledore, were drawn to the fact that Sirius was Harry Potter's godfather. The man was also Regent Gryffindor and that was certainly very attractive. This had the light faction divided, which was exactly what Sirius wanted. Amos Diggory really did not stand a chance.

"The sheets of parchment in front of you should provide the names of the final candidates," said Chief Warlock Dumbledore. "You may enter your votes."

As soon as the members chose their candidate with a tap of their wands, the enchanted sheets of parchment magically vanished. Five minutes later, they were all done and the tally had been reached.

Dumbledore forced a smile on his face. "The election process is now complete. By an overwhelming majority by both the public as well as the Wizengamot, the new Minister of Magic of Magical Britain and Ireland is Lord Sirius Black!"

Thunderous applause greeted him as Sirius ascended to his seat to the left of the Chief Warlock. He smiled widely at them and he saw a young boy with distinguishing green eyes in the seats meant for the public wink at him.

Minister Black winked back at his godson. Their mission was a success.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A teenage boy was sitting on a swirl chair behind an ornate desk in his study, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows. A bejewelled diadem was sitting on top of his head as he occasionally closed and opened his eyes.

The election for the Minister of Magic had gone very well. Sure, there had been bumps along the way and they had wondered if they could succeed, but it had worked. Owning the _Magical Daily_ had certainly helped. Harry's anger at Albus Dumbledore increased when he remembered everything the old man had done to prevent Sirius from becoming Minister. Dumbledore really was an outstanding politician but the problem was that he expected everyone to behave the same way. In the political sphere, two people may be opponents, stabbing each other in the back one day, but they may become the greatest allies a month later. Dumbledore obviously thought Harry would do the same.

 _Wrong_. Harry would never forget. He couldn't describe the number of problems Dumbledore had caused Sirius over the past two months. The aged mage was also responsible for Sirius' incarceration, him being abandoned at the Dursleys and Harry was pretty sure there was something shady about his parents' going under the Fidelius Charm as well. Even the prophecy brought about warning bells. He made a note to hear the entire contents of the prophecy sometime. He had wanted to go during the summer, but with everything that had happened, he had been too busy.

What were those escaped Death Eaters after? Were they trying to bring Voldemort back? How did they know that he was alive in the first place? Nobody knew about Voldemort's Horcruxes, right? That's what the Dark Lord thought anyway. He didn't know that Harry now had a lot of information about that.

The Diadem of Ravenclaw was really the best thing that had ever happened to Harry. His training and knowledge in all fields in magic were improving by leaps and bounds. Tom Riddle in his youth had taken to studying all forms of magic. Voldemort had later improved upon that by travelling around the world and learning magic from different people. While it was true that Harry was still learning the N.E.W.T. material from the memories, he spent more time skimming through them to get information on Horcruxes.

The first Horcrux, the diary, given to Lucius Malfoy had been destroyed. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff given to Bellatrix, which was safely kept in the Lestrange family vault at Gringotts, had been retrieved and the soul piece destroyed. The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, which had been kept in the Room of Requirement, had been retrieved and the soul piece destroyed. That only left the Gaunt ring and Salazar Slytherin's locket, both of which were extremely well protected. He knew that he should be doing this with Sirius, but he didn't want to put his godfather in needless danger. Sirius would also not approve of Harry's methods, he knew that. Besides, Sirius was still in a high of winning the election and was enjoying a quiet evening with his family. Dylan was at Greengrass Manor, so Harry had time.

Placing the Diadem back securely in a small vault, Harry walked out of the study and made his way to the dungeons of Potter Castle. The sun had nearly set by now and the dungeons looked menacing under the dim lighting charms. Not breaking stride, Harry simply disabled the wards on the doors with a few flicks of his wand. Several minutes later, the door to the room which housed some of the prison cells opened.

"Hello, family," said Harry with a dark smirk on his face. "Long time no see."

In front of him behind bars were the weak, frail forms of Vernon, Petunia and Marge Dursley.

Once Harry had realised back in his first year that Dumbledore had an unusual interest in the Dursleys, doing his best to force Harry back to their house, he had taken a bold step. Dumbledore had still been his guardian then, and Harry really did not want to take any chances. How could the old man force him to return to Privet Drive if the Dursleys no longer lived there?

House-Elves were really useful creatures. They were extremely loyal to their masters and lived for much longer than witches and wizards. Their loyalty, once earned by a witch or wizard, was something which was extremely valuable. The Potters and the Blacks had known this. Once upon a time, they had used this to their advantage. The Blacks, being the ever politicians, used to send their house-elves to spy on people. They had an outstanding idea on how to do that. They opened a shop, not in Diagon Alley, but in one of the other smaller shopping districts in Magical Britain and similar ones all over Magical Europe. The company would let families hire house-elves to do their job and pay money to the company for their services. Since not all families had elves, it worked amazingly well. No one realised that the Blacks owned the company. It had been skillfully hidden by a mountain of paperwork and aliases. By the sixteenth century, the Blacks' information gathering skills were unparalleled by anyone in Europe. Using intimidation and blackmail, they had been the power behind the throne in the country. That was the reason generations of Blacks considered themselves close to royalty.

The Potters, on the other hand, did not care about politics. Someone from the family would always be present at the Wizengamot, as it was their duty, but it was not something they focussed on until Lord Charlus Potter, Harry's grandfather, took his seat. Unlike the Blacks, who used the house-elves for information, the Potters used them to raid the homes of their enemies. The family was notorious for their obsession with wards and they had used that to their best advantage.

The Potters had always been wealthy, but they wouldn't have become one of the richest families in the world if they hadn't plundered the fortunes of several families all over Europe and beyond. Using a combination of runes and stealth spells, they gave their house-elves power to help them in their raids. Rich, snobby purebloods who had opposed the Potters and their business deals soon found their large fortunes gone, leaving them destitute, and the best part of it all was that no one ever connected it to the Potters.

In fact, the Potters had even taken advantage of the Muggle English civil war, stealing plenty of royal gold and treasures in the process, and the same was done again during the Muggle French Revolution. Between the huge amounts of money they got through robbing their enemies, combined with their smart business tactics and magical innovations, they controlled a lot of international trade around the world.

That was, of course, until they were brought down to their knees after the Potter Massacre. The family business of robbing enemies had been tucked away, never to be used again. They began managing their very large fortune instead. They had taken a massive beating after the massacre and had never recovered from that. The house-elves went back to serving the family, not being asked to help in raids anymore.

 _Karma_. It all came down to Karma. All those centuries later, the Black and Potter families took one hit after another, nearly being driven extinct in the process, losing a good chunk of their power with it – until Harry Potter and Sirius Black took their positions as the heads of their respective families.

Using the house-elves again, this time pooling their resources, they had ensured that their elves could not be tracked as they sent them to spy on people. While the other families who had house-elves of their own were quite difficult to spy on, not to mention many had developed anti-elf wards to protect themselves from wizards who could use Elvin Apparition to enter their homes, that was not to say that it was useless. The runes and enchantments developed by the Potters to hide the elf's magical signature may be quite old, but it was still ingenious. That was how Sirius had gotten enough information to blackmail his opponents in addition to the information his family had collected over the centuries.

And that was also how Harry had kidnapped the Dursleys. There was no way he was not going to exact revenge for all that they had put him through when he had been under their care. He wanted them to suffer as he had suffered.

"How has it been to live here for the last two years?" smirked Harry.

"YOU!" bellowed Vernon. "You're the one keeping us here? Let us out, boy, now!"

Harry's eyes darkened and his wand sailed to his hand. With a flick, the door of the cell opened and he stepped inside. Vernon took the chance to pounce on Harry but was thrown against the wall violently without Harry even having to defend himself.

"Oh, you stupid fool," Harry snorted uncharacteristically, shaking his head. "Did you think the collar you were made to wear was for beautification? Those are charmed to ensure that you cannot attack me. But even if you do, I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." He twirled his wand in his fingers, showing it to Petunia who paled. "Recognise this, Aunt Petunia?" he sneered. "It's called a wand."

"Y-You have become o-one of them," she whispered, looking horrified. "You're a _freak_!"

Harry's face contorted in rage. There was no word he hated more than the word 'freak.' It brought back bad memories of him being tortured by them and also Dylan suffering for as long as he had. Gritting his teeth, Harry slashed his wand in the air and Petunia screamed an unholy scream full of pain as the bones in her legs exploded.

"Don't use that word in front of me," said Harry dangerously. "Be glad that I've been kind enough to provide you with food and shelter. Does that sentence remind you of something, Aunt Petunia? What about you, Uncle Vernon? You claimed that you had provided a roof over my head and food from your table purely because of the goodness of your hearts. It didn't matter to you that you gave me a tiny boot cupboard under the stairs for me to sleep in or that you gave me so little food that any other child would have died of starvation. Well then, I'm returning the favour. You should be glad that I've put a roof over your head by bringing you to my dungeon and also that I provide you with food, however little it may be."

"Where's Dudley?" asked Vernon, shakily.

"He's in a much better place," smirked Harry.

"What have you done, you disgusting boy?" screeched Marge. Harry turned to face her, his luminescent green eyes flashing with murderous intent. Apparently, being in an isolated cell for two years had still not broken them. Maybe more punishment was in order.

"You know, I've always wanted to do this to you, Marge," said Harry quietly. He swiftly kicked her in the face, breaking her nose. With one more kick, she was holding her stomach in pain.

"That was for letting your worthless dogs nearly maul me to death while you laughed at my helplessness … and this …"

Harry pointed his wand at her.

" _Crucio_!"

Marge screamed in a manner she had never screamed before. Vernon and Petunia were watching, horrified, as Marge twisted and turned like she was on fire and being stabbed at the same time. After ten seconds, Harry released the curse, looking satisfied.

"This was for calling my mother a whore and my father a good for nothing drunk," said Harry darkly. "And you, Aunt Petunia ... I wonder what your plans were for me. You were rather insistent on denying me any knowledge of magic. Let's see what is going on in that head of yours."

" _Legilimens!_ "

Five minutes of shuffling through her memories left him disgusted. She had never planned on telling him about his heritage. She wanted to keep him so downtrodden that Harry would never be able to get up. She would have kicked him out of the house after high school, ensuring that Harry survived on the streets with no proper education or job, hoping that he would die in misery. She had wanted to do that because she hated the fact that Lily had been magical while it had been denied to her. The fact that Harry was an innocent soul in her feud with her sister did not matter to her at all. The baby dumped on her doorstep was a freak and he must be made 'normal.' That was all that mattered to her.

"No," croaked Petunia when she saw the expression on Harry's face; it was terrifying.

" _Crucio_!"

Harry calmed down a bit as he saw Petunia whimpering on the floor after having suffered the Cruciatus Curse. "I'm not going to do anything more to you," he said softly. "Know that your actions against me were what caused this predicament in the first place. You received money for my care and yet you treated me like a slave. Know that you are the reason Dudley is dead. If you had treated me better, your son would still be alive. It's your fault, Petunia. It's all your fault. Remember that."

He cast a Confundus Charm on her to keep making her remember that her precious son was dead. Truthfully, Dudley was very much alive. The boy had tormented Harry when they were young, but he was just a child. Harry had simply wiped the boy's memories to make him think his parents had been killed by using a simple memory charm and a confundus charm. He had then enrolled Dudley into a military school funded by the Muggle government. Let the fat lump be of some use to society.

"Vernon, come with me," ordered Harry.

The man still did not give up. Harry had to give him credit for that. "Oh no, boy! You will let us go and I'm not going to follow your orders."

Harry rolled his eyes. Vernon would get what's coming to him soon enough. Pointing his wand at the man, making Vernon flinch in terror, Harry simply chanted, " _Imperio!_ "

The two of them left the dungeons quietly, not listening to Petunia's cries or Marge's moans of pain. Harry and Vernon walked to the edge of the property from where Harry took his uncle's arm and Disapparated.

When Harry opened his eyes, he could immediately smell the sea water. His informal robe slung over his shoulders was fluttering about him due to the wind and Vernon had a blank expression on his face. Harry frowned. The cave was warded against people approaching through any magical means, so they had to swim. He looked at Vernon.

"You are to swim to that cliff over there," said Harry commandingly. "Don't drown."

With that, Harry dived into the sea, trying not to think how deep the water was. Doing his best to avoid the waves, he slowly emerged at the entrance of the cave, the warming and drying charms on his clothes working overtime.

Harry began running his fingers over the cave wall, looking for the place. After about a minute, he found it. Pressing his hand over a rock, a pedestal appeared. Making Vernon come forward, he poured a few drops of his uncle's blood on the pedestal. It glowed and the entrance materialised.

"Don't touch the water," he ordered as they walked inside. It was dark and eerie and Harry knew exactly what was inside the lake. Carefully waving his hand over thin air, he remembered what Voldemort had done to raise the boat. He tapped his wand on his other hand, and the thick chains appeared, bringing the boat along with it.

"Sit down and ensure you don't touch the water," said Harry, taking control of Vernon's actions through the curse. Once they were on the small island where the pedestal which contained the Horcrux was located, Harry conjured a small crystal glass and made Vernon drink the potion. Voldemort was a genius. The potion he had kept here would recreate the worst fears of a person and ensure that they are mentally paralysed after drinking a few gulps of the potion. If they did manage to finish it, they would turn to the lake to drink water because of the thirst caused by the potion. That's when the Inferi would rise out of the lake, dragging the person with them under. There was no chance for a single person to ever escape with the Horcrux.

Harry removed the locket from the basin, dropped a fake one in its place and frowned when the locket did not look like the one in his memories.

It was a fake. This wasn't the Horcrux.

He closed his eyes in frustration and fear when he realised that someone else had stolen the real locket. Where the hell could the Horcrux be? It could be anywhere! Just as he turned, Harry screamed in fear when he came face to face with an Inferi. The potion had lifted the Imperius curse he had placed on Vernon. The Muggle had crawled to the lake to drink water, raising the Inferi. Harry had been distracted to see it. Flicking his wand to his hand, he rotated it in a wide arc above his head as fire erupted from the tip. A ring of fire surrounded the hundreds of Inferi, making them go back underwater. Harry's heart was thumping a mile a minute as he realised that Vernon had already been taken underwater. Stepping into the small boat, Harry crossed the lake and made his way out. With a silent _pop_ , his Disapparated.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Dylan Lestrange was in a good mood. He had just come back from Greengrass Manor where he had spent the day with Astoria and some of their friends from school. He never thought he would see the day when he actually had friends! Sure, it had been bad in the first month at Hogwarts, but with Harry's help, people began warming up to him. He was not liked by everyone, but that hardly mattered. He had a few friends and he was content with that. He also had Astoria, his best friend. What more could he ask for?

Stepping out of the fireplace at Potter Castle, he briskly made his way to Harry's study. The two of them alternated between staying here at the castle or at Black Manor.

"Harry?" Dylan frowned when he entered the large study. The boy in question was sitting in an armchair in front of the roaring fireplace. His frown deepened when he saw that Harry looked grim.

"Harry, are you okay?" he asked again, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. "What's wrong?"

Harry looked up and saw the concerned face of the boy he had come to regard as his own brother. He simply stared at Dylan. Both Harry and Dylan had grown up in similar environments. Both of them had been physically and psychologically abused by Muggles. Harry, at least, had the opportunity to escape at the age of seven, but not Dylan. Harry always had the comfort to know that his parents had cared for him when they were alive. Dylan's parents had not been married; his mother had been raped by his father who was a notorious and sadistic Death Eater. Their childhood was quite similar, and yet they turned out so different. Why?

"How do you do it, Dylan?"

"Do what?"

"Stay innocent even after everything that has been done to you," said Harry quietly as he drowned a phial containing a Calming Draught.

"Stay innocent? Harry, what are you talking about?"

"You were called a freak your whole life. So was I. The matron in the orphanage tried to do an exorcism on you. I've never told this to anyone except Daphne, but the Dursleys did that to me when I was five. I was never more scared in my life than I was that day. I was beaten up for accidental magic; so were you. I was told that my father was a useless drunken layabout and that my mother was a whore. Even now, many people at Hogwarts call you a bastard. You were told that your father was a Death Eater while I was told that my parents were murdered by one of the most dangerous Dark Lords in recent years. How, Dylan? You still remain pure at heart. You don't seek revenge against those who hurt you. Even after what others called you at school, you still go out of your way to help them if they're in trouble. Your innocence and sunny personality confuse me. We share a similar past, yet I turned out much darker in the process. How?"

Dylan was speechless. This was the last thing he expected. He stayed silent for a minute before responding.

"I don't think I care much for revenge," he admitted softly. "When I was growing up, I tried to fight back, but whenever I did, it only got worse. I used to get angry at them for the way they treated me, but I realised later that there was no point. I was alone with no one to help me. I had to rely on myself for everything. If I had to survive, I had to avoid them. I did not have the power to take them head-on, so I kept to myself. I don't understand why you call me pure at heart. I'm nothing like that."

Harry chuckled slightly, shaking his head in amusement. Dylan really had no idea how unique he was. Would Harry have turned out like that in another life? Where his eyes displayed innocence and warmth instead of the cold emerald orbs they always were? Harry couldn't explain it, but torturing the Dursleys and killing Vernon today struck a chord.

"If you were given a choice, would you be willing to kill the people who treated you that way? Make them pay?"

Dylan was startled by that question. He swallowed as he answered, "I won't lie and say that they don't deserve punishment, but I wasn't the only one those older boys and people at the orphanage tormented. But would I intentionally torture or kill them? No. I don't think I could do it."

After a pause, he asked hesitantly, "Can you?"

Harry looked at the boy directly in the eye and said, "Yes. I've already done it."

Dylan's eyes widened and he involuntarily moved back as though burned. "Killed?" he whispered, but Harry didn't answer.

Technically he _had_ killed. He may not have used his wand to strike the final blow, but he was the reason Professor Quirrell and Vernon Dursley were dead. He had used the Cruciatus Curse on Marge Dursley and Aunt Petunia. He had the capacity to perform the Killing Curse, which not many could do. The curse required powerful magic behind it. The amount of hatred which Harry needed to feel to use the Cruciatus and Killing Curses were frightening. Sirius had spoken to him about this, but ... there were some things he could never tell Sirius. His godfather wouldn't understand. Neither would Daphne, for that matter, because they had never experienced it.

"Would you think any less of me if I said yes?"

Dylan gazed out of the window, looking at the twinkling stars above. "Why did you do it?" he asked after a pause. "Was it only for revenge?"

"No, not really," replied Harry honestly. "The first time I killed someone was when I was eleven, in my first year at Hogwarts. There was a teacher by the name of Professor Quirrell who taught Defence. He was being possessed by Voldemort or was Voldemort himself, I think; I'm not sure. He had nearly caused the death of Hermione Granger by letting a troll inside the school once. Many other students could have died that day too. To ensure that he didn't kill anyone – or me, for that matter – I led the man to his death. I stunned him and let the Cerberus at school do the rest."

Dylan remained silent.

"This evening, I had something important to do with regard to Voldemort's continued survival," he continued. "I needed someone to drink a very painful potion that makes the drinker relive his worst memories. No one knows this, but I kidnapped my Muggle relatives some time back and kept them locked up in the dungeons. I made my uncle drink the potion, but he unexpectedly died today."

"But you didn't actually kill both," said Dylan hesitantly, trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. "The first one, you were trying to stop Voldemort. The second one was an accident, wasn't it? You didn't kill him either. So, why are you feeling guilty?"

"Oh, I'm not," said Harry flatly. "I don't feel guilty for killing both those men and I never will. They deserved everything they had coming to them. But I'm just curious about how you turned out to be such a sweet kid. You really are something special, Dylan. I'm glad I met you. You're like a mirror to me. I won't change who I am, Merlin knows I am happy the way I turned out, but sometime, somewhere, I could have been like you. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing."

"You certainly think a lot, don't you?"

Harry exhaled. "If you're afraid of me after learning this –"

"Stop," said Dylan firmly. "That will never happen. You – you're my _brother_ , Harry. Granted, we might be cousins ten generations removed and not actual siblings, but that doesn't matter to me. You – you're my hero! You always help me when I need you. You take care of me and, well, yes, what you did was wrong, but you took me in, accepted me, an orphaned son of a known Death Eater, as your brother. You gave me a home and spent time with me, taught me advanced magic; how can that make you a bad person? I-I don't know what else to say ..."

Harry stood up and pulled the younger boy into a tight hug. "Thanks, Dylan," he whispered. "You are and always will be my little brother. Just don't ever change from the sweet boy that you are. I love you."

Dylan choked as he gripped him tighter; no one had ever uttered those words to him before and it was a novel experience for him, not to mention emotional. "Love you too, Harry."

Harry simply placed a kiss on top of the boy's head. A minute later, they headed towards their respective rooms for the night.

Sitting on floor near the fireplace, the young Potter scion closed his eyes to centre himself. It had been an emotional day for him and he needed to get himself under control. He couldn't have such an episode again.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: To all those who guessed Sirius to be the Minister, kudos to you! Also, as you can see, Harry has plenty of faults. I'm not writing him to be perfect; he is human and will have flaws like the rest._** ** _H_** ** _e is a teenager and will sometimes act like it, just like he did in this chapter. He had promised Sirius that he wouldn't risk his life but still did so. Also, I realise that Dylan's character has been unexpected, but I request you to give him a chance. I have spent a lot of time and effort into developing his character and Harry's character along with it, which you will see in the future. He is essential for Harry to grow as a person. Give it time. Thanks for the reviews!_**


	19. Godric's tale

**_Chapter 19_**

 ** _Godric's Tale_**

The Death Eaters were camping in a small clearing outside Folkestone, Kent. They had managed to evade the Aurors, but unfortunately, they didn't have means of knowing what was going on in the magical world. Security had been tightened and they were on the run. They knew for sure that any home of theirs would be very closely monitored, so they had to make do with forest clearings. Thankfully, magic could make things a lot easier. They didn't want to contact the Death Eaters who had evaded Azkaban because they didn't trust them. There was no way to tell who was still loyal to the Dark Lord.

"We found something that can get us off the mainland," said Rabastan as he and his brother entered the clearing. They took the offered food they had stolen from the Muggles. Killing those animals would only attract attention, so they had to restrain themselves.

"What is it?" asked Rookwood.

"The Muggles have built a tunnel under the English Channel," Rodolphus answered. "Since it goes underground, we may be able to avoid the sensor net. I recommend that we don't Apparate, but use the Muggles' stupid train instead. We'll have to be extremely careful with our disguises, though."

"It's risky," said Rowle, rubbing his face. "For all you know, this apparent blind spot in the sensor net might be a trap set by the Aurors to capture us."

"Rookwood is the expert on the sensor net here," snapped Bellatrix. "And we _will_ be going! The Dark Lord needs us!"

"I'll know more only after seeing this tunnel, but if we don't use magic, I think we can escape. Once we reach France, cross-country Apparition will become easier," said Rookwood. "But too many of us will increase the chances of being discovered by the International Magical Border Patrol. We can evade the British Aurors, but we can't afford to have the I.C.W. getting involved."

"He's right," said Dolohov.

"Fine," spat Bellatrix. "We'll split up. Four of us will leave using that filthy Muggle tunnel and the rest are to stay here and find out everything you can. Once we return, the Dark Lord will demand information. Start gathering intelligence. Cornelius Fudge is an idiot from what I've seen during his inspection of Azkaban, but that Bones bitch is a problem."

They decided who was to go. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan and Rookwood were to find the Dark Lord. The rest would stay out of sight while gathering useful information about the Ministry. Pettigrew's Animagus form would be useful to spy on people.

A few hours later, the four Death Eaters disguised themselves and left. Chanting the Dark Lord's name, they moved forward, letting their Dark Marks guide them. It was time they got their master back.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The second term at Hogwarts began without anything spectacular. Harry continued using the diadem for learning from Voldemort's memories and had later taken to practising the spells he had learnt in the Room of Requirement. At the end of January, Harry finally came clean about his excursion to the cave where the fake locket was found. Needless to say, Sirius was not happy.

"I have enough problems without you being one of them!" shouted Sirius angrily. "Harry, what in Merlin's name were you thinking? I'll tell you; you weren't thinking at all, that's what you were thinking!"

"Sirius –"

"No, I don't want to hear it!" snapped Sirius, cutting him off. "This is the most irresponsible, idiotic thing you have _ever_ done! I don't even want to think about what could have happened if something had gone wrong! You are keeping too many secrets from me, young man, and I am not pleased! You are in deep trouble because right now, I can't even think of a suitable punishment for this latest stunt of yours!"

"Sirius, please hear me out," said Harry softly. "I knew the protections and defences on that cave. I knew that I could take care of them myself."

"Oh yes, that's why you were attacked by Inferi, weren't you?" the new Minister said sarcastically. Normally, Harry was quite mature and Sirius loved the lad with all his heart, but damn, there were times like this he wanted to show the boy how displeased he really was. The late Lord Orion Black would most definitely agree.

"I was distracted by finding out the fact that the Horcrux was not real," said Harry, his eye twitching in annoyance. "Until then, I was completely in control."

Sirius emptied a glass of Firewhisky as he sat down on his chair in his study, hating the fact that he was also dealing with annoying teenagers along with the incompetent Ministry. Dozens of files were placed on either side of his table which contained reports from different departments of the Ministry of Magic. He was really getting short-tempered because of the amount of work he needed to get done. He was close to smacking Fudge upside the head for being such a useless leader.

"I want you to know," said Sirius slowly, the anger clearly evident in his voice, "how _deeply_ disappointed in you I am. You broke your promise when you said that you wouldn't risk your life unnecessarily and I can't think of a punishment that will be suitable for this, mostly because you are not staying at home right now and I doubt grounding you during the school year would help and considering how you react to it, I will never bend you over my knee either, though I am tempted. I can only hope that it means something to you."

"It does," said Harry quietly, sounding abashed, blinking the tears away. Sirius was the only father-figure in his life and Harry really looked up to the man. He was the first living person who had taken an active interest in Harry's life and he did not like disappointing his godfather who loved him so dearly. "It means I've let you down, and for that, I deeply apologise. But I was only trying to look out for you. I didn't want you to be in danger. You have a family now and –"

"You are also a part of that family, son," said Sirius, looking at Harry with piercing grey eyes. "And it is my job to look after you, not your job to look after me. You may be smart and mature for your age, but you, Harry James Potter, are still thirteen years old and it would be wise if you remembered that. I want you to promise me that you won't do anything this reckless again."

"I can't do that," said Harry, looking out of the window, mentally cringing in anticipation.

"Excuse me?" asked Sirius dangerously, his eyes narrowed.

"I have a prophecy hanging over my head, Sirius," he continued, looking at his godfather. "The future is not certain. If there ever comes a time when I need to act, I will do so. I'm not a person who will shrink from responsibility in times of danger but I will do my best to avoid it."

Sirius sighed. It was difficult to argue with Harry because the boy made valid points. But damn, he was so infuriating! Being Harry's guardian was really a pain in the arse sometimes. He felt like grounding the boy for a year, but he knew it would be counter-productive. Exhaling deeply, he said, "Where is this fake locket?"

Harry removed the locket from inside his robe pocket and levitated it to Sirius. The older man took it and observed it for a minute. After doing a standard detection spell, he opened the locket and removed a slip of paper. Unfolding it, he read it, his eyes widening in shock.

"Sirius?" asked Harry curiously. "Hmm, I didn't think to open it. What's inside?"

"See for yourself."

 _To the Dark Lord_

 _I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more._

 _R.A.B_

"Regulus Arcturus Black," explained Sirius quietly as he closed his eyes. "My little brother stole the real Horcrux."

"But where could it be?" said Harry urgently. "Did he destroy it?"

"That, I'm not sure," Sirius whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "I never had much contact with him after I ran away when I was sixteen. We used to be very close when we were kids, inseparable even, but as the years rolled on, Mother's poisonous claws latched onto him. He was the only one in my family that I ever truly loved. The last I knew, he had succumbed to Mother's threats and had joined the Death Eaters and was killed on Voldemort's orders for backing away just a few months later. Oh, Reggie, why didn't you come to me?"

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. This only complicated matters. How in Merlin's name did Regulus find out about the Horcrux in the first place? Voldemort had never told anyone. He had used a house-elf while placing the locket in the cave, but the elf had died after Voldemort left. There was no way Regulus could have read Voldemort's mind, which meant he must have known about Horcruxes and might have recognised it when the Dark Lord had once said _'I have guarded myself against mortal death.'_ Yes, that must be it. But how did he find the cave in the first place? So many questions ...

"Do you have any information on the ring?" asked Sirius, wiping the tears away.

"Yes," said Harry. "But we need to create a replica of the ring and put the protections back in place. If Voldemort were to find out that something is wrong ..."

"I don't know what the ring looks like," Sirius frowned.

"Leave that to me. The curse on the ring is called the Bothrops Curse. It is named after a snake. The curse's effects are very similar to the snake bite of a Bothrops asper. Anyone who comes into contact with the curse suffers a very painful, instant death. The limb turns black and shrivelled, causing severe necrosis and death of the muscle tissue throughout the body. If the person puts on the ring or even touches it, the curse is activated. Once the cell damage reaches the heart, there is no stopping it. In fact, there is no counter-curse at all. It is a very old curse that hasn't been seen for a long time."

"Talk about overkill," muttered Sirius. "All right. Do what you can. But you are not going this time without me, is that clear?"

"Understood," said Harry with a small smile. He went over and gave his godfather a tight hug. "I didn't mean to disobey you or make you worry about me, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I'm really sorry, Sirius."

Sirius sighed. He remembered his own teenage years. Running around with a werewolf every full moon night was not something any sane wizard would do.

"I know how you feel."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

In mid-march, Harry put down the book he had just finished reading. It was the journal of Godric Gryffindor. Once he had claimed the family ring, he had received information that Godric had hidden the family fortune somewhere at Hogwarts. Knowing the general location, he had searched for it until he had struck gold, literally. Using the Sword of Gryffindor and the Gryffindor Headship ring, he was able to get the secret chamber opened, only to gape in shock.

The secret chamber was clearly Godric's personal chambers at Hogwarts, but it was filled to the brim with gold, silver and precious jewels. Mountains of gold could be seen and a small pile of diamonds, rubies and other gems was placed in a corner. He had seen something similar in the high-security vaults deep under Potter Castle and also in the Potter family vault at Gringotts, but the amount of gold in here was staggering. He had immediately called his house-elves to transport the contents to a high-security vault at Potter Castle. Slowly, over time, he would transfer a bulk of the fortune to Gringotts where he could begin investments.

Gold wasn't the only thing he found in the place. On a table was a journal penned by the Founder himself. After using a translation charm, Harry had taken to reading it every spare moment he got. The revelations were astounding.

Godric had been the firstborn son of the Gryffindor family. The Gryffindors were an old family, dating back to the time of King Arthur and Merlin. In fact, they, along with the Potters and Slytherins were members in King Arthur's court hundreds of years ago. It was once during their childhood that Godric had met Salazar, a boy five years younger than him, but they didn't have much contact since.

He was taught magic by his parents and other tutors, and once he was an adult, he travelled abroad to learn various branches of magic from tutors. While touring Magical Italy, which still carried its traditions from the Ancient Roman Empire, he met a woman who was a year older than him who wanted to go abroad and learn all about the intricacies of various forms of magic as well. Her name was Laurentia who was the daughter of Godric's instructor in Rome. The two had forged a friendship and several months later she joined Godric in his tour of the world and the pair travelled extensively for many years, learning various branches of magic.

In Egypt, Godric won the friendship of the Goblins; a warrior race known for their expertise in banking, warding, warfare and creation of weapons from magical metals that only their race could work with. He spent a lot of time with them, learning about their culture and how to wield a sword. Once, he saved a bunch of goblins from a mob of Muggles who wanted to kill them, so the leader of the Goblin community finally accepted Godric's request and made a special sword for him as a reward; Godric still had to pay for it, of course. It was a three-foot-long blade, made of Goblin silver, making it very conductive for magic use. While he was quite good with his wand, he couldn't help but be at home with his new sword. He spent many years enchanting and enhancing the sword to his style. By the time they finished their tour of the world, he and Laurentia had fallen in love and had decided to get married.

After talking to her parents and returning to Britain to talk to his family, it was finally decided to hold the marriage ceremony in Rome. Once they were married, Godric and Laurentia returned to Britain, hoping to create a better life for the people of their country. But there were problems as witch hunts grew in popularity; if Muggles detected witches and wizards or even magical creatures, they would be attacked in their sleep and killed in their beds. The Muggles would then drag the mutilated bodies for all to see. These instances horrified Godric, but he felt that once they could explain to the Muggles that magic wasn't evil but a blessing from the Goddess herself, everything would work out and both magical and Muggle humans could coexist in peace.

It was a few short months into their marriage that Laurentia found herself pregnant. The couple was ecstatic and nine months later, Laurentia gave birth to a girl who they named Geraldine Gryffindor. When Geraldine was only a year old, tragedy struck; Godric's entire family had been targeted due to them being witches and wizards. His parents and siblings were all killed by a large mob of Muggles. Godric was filled with rage and wanted vengeance but Laurentia managed to calm him down. It was then that Godric decided to rethink his plan for Muggles and magicals coexisting with each other. Clearly, Muggles did not tolerate the existence of magic.

Life went on and Laurentia befriended a witch from Scotland named Rowena Ravenclaw. She was several years older than Godric and Laurentia, and had come back to Britain from Albania, where her husband's family was nobility. Godric was very impressed with the older woman's sheer intelligence and talent with her wand. The Gryffindor family slowly got to know Rowena, who became close to Laurentia and thus, as an extension, her husband Godric.

But unrest in the Muggles soon found its way to strike again. One night, when Godric was away on business, the Muggles attacked his home. An entire mob of Muggles managed to overpower Laurentia and burned her at the stake after torturing her, while her six-year-old daughter was badly injured. Luckily, Laurentia had managed to send a message to her friend Rowena, who arrived quickly and managed to save Geraldine, but was unable to save her friend.

Laurentia Gryffindor was brutally killed.

Rowena then sent a message to Godric, telling him to come back to Britain as soon as he could, while she took little Geraldine to a well-known healer of the time – Helga Hufflepuff. Although Geraldine was badly injured, Helga was able to save her life. Godric returned to find his wife dead and his only daughter wounded. Rage filled him in a way he had never felt before. He headed back to the village where his family had lived and slaughtered the Muggles; every single one of them. The village was a bloodbath, and no one would forget the sight of Godric Gryffindor holding a sword in one hand and a wand in the other, killing everyone he could find, magic radiating off of him in waves, his face in tears. If the Muggles wanted to see death so badly, he would show them what death really was.

Godric then spent his time raising his daughter. It was during this time that he had met his childhood acquaintance, Salazar Slytherin, who, Godric had heard, was in a similar predicament. Salazar's family too was murdered when he was just a child and he had grown up as an orphan, using his cunning nature to survive and manage his fortune. But unlike Godric, Salazar was more in control of his emotions and used his sly and cunning personality to win. He was not a battle mage like Godric but he was very knowledgeable in obscure magical arts. When Godric found himself very troubled with his past, Salazar taught him how to control his thoughts and emotions using Occlumency. Godric also taught Salazar many spells which he had learnt during his travels. It was during this time that their friendship deepened.

The two men realised that the witches and wizards were in grave danger, with the knowledge of magic dying in their beloved country. The Muggles seemed to have forgotten the time when King Arthur ruled their land hundreds of years ago when Britain's population of both magicals and Muggles coexisted peacefully. It was then that Rowena came up with the idea of a school. The idea was accepted by Godric, Salazar and Helga, who had by then become Rowena's friend.

They chose a remote location in Scotland, in the middle of a forest, away from prying eyes. They had to ensure that no one trespassed and attacked innocent children. They pooled all their money and constructed a large castle where they were to have the school. Having already befriended the Potter family who had constructed a castle with a heavy amount of protective enchantments and a stone fortress around it so that no one could enter their home and kill them in their sleep, Godric realised that their school had to be well protected. They collectively used their knowledge of magic to erect various wards around the place, to make the castle a _magical_ fortress, something which Godric remembered the Potters had insisted was important. Once construction was complete, Helga named the school _Hogwarts_. The four then spread the message among the magical community so that parents would send their children to the newly constructed magical school. Godric personally went to Potter Castle to talk to them and soon, Alan Potter was among the first students enrolled at Hogwarts.

As knowledge of Hogwarts spread, many more parents sent their children to the school so that they could learn from the four learned witches and wizards. Godric specialised in Battle Magic and Transfiguration; Rowena focussed on Charms, Runes and spell crafting; Helga specialised in Healing and Potions, while Salazar specialised in Rituals and other obscure arts of magic. Rowena even developed an open ward which was so large that it could detect magical children born anywhere in the British Isles. It would later be known as the Book of Admittance of Hogwarts.

It was some years later that Godric found out that his daughter and Alan Potter were seeing each other. He was quite happy with the union, and with the blessings of their parents, the couple got married. Rowena too had a daughter named Helena who grew up at Hogwarts with her parents, as Rowena's husband shuffled between living at Hogwarts and going to Albania to take care of his family business. Helga had several children with her husband, who was the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts. Although he remained unmarried, Salazar too wanted children so he blood-adopted a young boy, who was also surprisingly a Parselmouth, and gave him his own name – Salazar Slytherin.

Godric had, however, years later, always suspected Salazar to have had a biological child of his own; a girl, whom Salazar was very fond of and also possessed the man's vibrant green eyes. Unfortunately, Godric never found out if the girl was indeed Salazar's daughter or not.

Salazar Junior grew up at Hogwarts raised by his father, but he tended to be very arrogant and treated everyone as his inferior. The boy also hated Godric with a passion, which annoyed his father as Salazar and Godric considered each other brothers in all but blood. The two men, of course, had their differences because of their clashing personalities as Godric was loud and brash while Salazar was calm and cunning, but they both counted on each other as family. This slowly created a rift between Salazar and his son. Several years later, when Salazar Junior did something unforgivable, the founder banished his son from Hogwarts, telling him to never come back ever again.

By this time, the founders were not their youthful selves. Rowena's husband had passed away, her daughter had disappeared and so had her diadem. While witches and wizards lived much longer than Muggles, emotional distress tended to make them age a lot faster in their later years rather than physical problems. Rowena was dying, and there was nothing Helga could do to prevent it. Even on her deathbed, the once proud woman craved and cried for her daughter, begging Godric to bring her back so that she could see her one final time before she died. But by the time Godric had found out that Helena Ravenclaw had been killed by the Baron, Rowena had breathed her last.

It had been a sorrowful time at Hogwarts after they lost Rowena. But the other three decided to move on and ensure that Rowena's name would live on at the school. After a span of a few years, whispers began to reach the school that Salazar Junior had started killing various witches, wizards and Muggles alike so as to become the ruler of Magical Britain. Salazar finally had enough of his son's actions, so he decided to go confront him and end his life once and for all. Godric had wanted to come along with him but Salazar refused, stating that this was an internal matter between father and son. Salazar left Hogwarts so as to stop his son from killing any more people, against Godric's advice. That was the last time Godric saw his friend. There was no news of his death but Godric had used an arcane spell to check if he was alive. Godric was devastated to find out that Salazar Slytherin had been killed by the latter's own son.

By this point in time, Godric was old and all the hardship that he had endured had weakened him. Salazar Junior launched a massive offensive at Hogwarts, hoping to take the castle by force, but was thwarted by the wards and the combined forces of Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff. Helga was the one who finally fought Salazar Junior and killed him but she later succumbed to her injuries while Godric dealt with Salazar's forces. The battle had severely weakened the aged warrior and he soon left to spend his remaining days at Potter Castle with his family.

Harry was sitting still, his face blank as he explained the story to Daphne. They were in the Room of Requirement.

"It is so ironic," said Harry softly, "that the man everyone believes to have been a Muggle-lover slaughtered an entire village of Muggles when the said Muggles murdered his wife, and everyone vilifies a man who actually died while trying to stop his son from killing innocent witches and wizards. Who wrote our history books again?"

Daphne nodded. "It was Salazar Junior who wanted to wipe out Muggle-borns, not Salazar. History is confused and clouded and everyone thinks the founder was the one who was evil. How sad. What is actually ironic is the way they all died, did you observe that?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "Godric was a warrior who died of depression and old age; Rowena was highly gifted and intelligent but died of heartbreak; Helga was a healer and her House is said to be non-confrontational and are widely called duffers but she died a warrior's death after duelling and defeating Salazar Junior; Salazar was widely known for his cunning nature, but he let his heart overrule him and rashly decided to confront his son and died in a duel with him. It's completely contradictory to their given traits but it shows that while they were great men and women, they had their share of flaws too."

"I'll set history straight," muttered Harry as he picked up the journal. "They deserve to be remembered in their truest form, not the way they are now."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Report," said Amelia.

"Ma'am, as you know the Muggle Prime Minister has also informed the heads of all the other European countries about the missing Death Eaters," said Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. "A Muggle couple in southern Italy apparently called the police when they saw someone they thought looked like Bellatrix Lestrange. The Ministry of Magic of Italy began sending their Aurors all over the country to track them down but there have been no leads yet."

"Italy," Sirius frowned heavily. "What are they doing in Italy?"

"I'm not sure, Minister," said Kingsley. "In fact, I'm still trying to figure out how they got out of Britain in the first place!"

Amelia pursed her lips. "Thank you, Shack. Dismissed," she said.

With a nod, the tall Auror left the room. Sirius sat down at his desk, thinking hard as Amelia sat down on the chair in front of him.

"Why would they go abroad at all, Sirius?" asked Amelia, frowning. "It serves no logical purpose!"

"Maybe they are trying to find Voldemort?"

"Voldemort has not been sighted since that night he attacked James, Lily and Harry," said Amelia, shaking her head. "Even if they try to find him, how do they know where he is? They have been in Azkaban for twelve years! Voldemort may not be dead but who knows what form he is in? No, we're missing something."

The wards informed Sirius that someone was at the door. Pressing a rune on his table, he opened the door while retaining the other wards around the office.

"Ah, Director Croaker," said Sirius. "Please come in."

"Minister Black," said Algernon Croaker, Head of the Department of Mysteries. He nodded at the witch, "Amelia."

"Any leads?" asked Sirius.

"My people have been keeping a constant watch on them all," said Croaker. "Not one of them seems to be doing anything suspicious although Lucius Malfoy has attempted to find the escaped Death Eaters. So far, no luck. It seems the prison escapees don't trust those who evaded Azkaban."

"Damn, so there goes tracking them to lead us to the Death Eaters," muttered Sirius.

"I also have some good news, though," said Croaker. Seeing Sirius nod, he said, "The intelligence wing of my department was able to figure out how Bellatrix was able to sneak past the sensor net. It seems the Muggles have built an underwater tunnel that connects England to France."

"Oh, Merlin," muttered Amelia. "How deep?"

"About two hundred to two hundred and fifty feet below the seabed," replied Croaker. "We were not informed about it, so the sensor net has not been applied to the area."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Fine," he said quietly. "There is nothing we can do about it now. But what we can do is ensure that we are prepared. Get the sensor net down to that level. If Bellatrix does return through the tunnel, we'll be able to catch her. Amelia, inform the French Ministry of Magic about this discovery. They've probably not done it either."

"If Bellatrix is abroad, what about the rest?" asked Amelia.

"My guess is that they are still in Britain," said Croaker. "Though I'm surprised they have not attacked anyone yet. It is getting difficult to judge their actions. They're quiet; too quiet."

Sirius nodded. Once Croaker left, he began pacing. "Amy, why did Alastor Moody retire?" he asked curiously.

Amelia scowled. "Fudge," she spat, "decided that he wasn't needed anymore. Alastor's paranoia was getting the better of him and I heard rumours that Malfoy might have pushed for the retirement. Rufus Scrimgeour tried to keep him in the Auror Academy as an instructor but it was shot down."

"Well, I think it is time we brought him back," said Sirius. "Give him all the help he requires. Merlin knows he is more than qualified in capturing those Death Eaters considering he put them there in the first place."

"Understood," said Amelia as she got up to leave. "I need a vacation, Siri; between the issue with the Death Eaters, taking care of Rigel and the upcoming Quidditch World Cup, I'm running myself ragged."

"You think the World Cup is bad?" exclaimed Sirius shaking his head. "You don't even want to know the stink the Triwizard Tournament is causing. No one in Europe wants to come to Britain right now with ten high-security prisoners on the loose. I'll be leaving tomorrow morning for a meeting with the I.C.W. Triwizard Committee in Paris. I'll have to convince them that we'll take care of any security issues."

Amelia nodded. "I'll let you know of any updates."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry Potter twisted his wand slowly, his face scrunched up in concentration. In front of him was a ring on which a black stone was placed. He was trying to create a replica of the Gaunt ring which he was trying to recall from memory. He had been working on this for more than two months and it was finally ready. He didn't know what that symbol meant, but it was the only design on the ring so it had to be perfect.

"Done," he breathed. Picking up the ring, he turned around and asked, "How does it look?"

"Humph?" asked Daphne as she looked up from the book she was reading. "Oh, yeah, it looks perfect, but the ring itself is quite ugly looking."

Harry's eyes twinkled in amusement. "We're not going for aesthetics, Daphne. I wanted a replica of the ring."

"Still, it's ugly. You're leaving now?"

"Yes," answered Harry as he put on his leather cloak. "Sirius is back from Paris and he wants to get this done. There is still that locket which we are searching for, but one step at a time. Damn, why couldn't that bastard have died when that curse rebounded on him all those years ago? It would have saved us a lot of trouble."

Daphne smiled sadly. "My grandmother always says that life isn't fair."

"It never is," said Harry grimly. Kissing her goodbye, he made his way to the Shrieking Shack to get out of Hogwarts. With a crack, he Disapparated from Hogwarts.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Two cracks could be heard in the middle of a clearing in Little Hangleton. The two hooded figures were walking towards a forest which they could see in a distance. After walking for five minutes, they stopped.

"There is a barrier that deters people who come too close," said Harry. "It really is a wonderful piece of magic. You wouldn't even recognise it until you have walked for about ten kilometres. By then, you'll probably be fatigued and wondering why you are tired of walking just a few short meters when you have in fact walked for about two hours."

He then went to a specific tree in the forest and began feeling the magic around it. Concealment charms always left traces. Tapping the knot on the tree with his wand, he hissed in Parseltongue. The air seemed to shimmer for a few seconds until the wards dropped.

"Come on," said Harry as he and Sirius walked forward. "Those snakes would be just around the corner. Any second now ..."

A dozen poisonous snakes suddenly crawled all around them. Harry removed the Sword of Gryffindor from inside a bag and began slicing them clean off. Sirius used a modified fire spell and burnt them. With a flick of his wand, Sirius vanished any traces of the snakes.

"That's it?" asked Sirius, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, no," said Harry, shaking his head. "The wards around this place are very advanced but since I am a Parselmouth and I know all the passwords, it is much easier to get through. Even someone like Dumbledore would be stumped here for a while."

With that, Harry began hissing in Parseltongue as he waved his wand in a delicate pattern. Ten minutes later, the wards finally came down, revealing a rundown shack in the distance.

"The door also has a curse placed on it," said Harry as he opened the door, careful not to touch it.

"Hmm, he does take the security of this place seriously," said Sirius. "But I wonder why he didn't put a piece of his soul in a small stone and dump it at the bottom of the ocean."

"Let's be very glad that he didn't," said Harry grimly. Looking at the badly concealed portion of the floor, he began scanning.

"That's another trap, isn't it?" asked Sirius. "If someone enters the shack, they can find the ring easily and once they do, it is a quick, painful death."

"Yup," said Harry as he blasted the floor open. "I can't help being impressed by his diabolical mind."

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

A pale jet of green light flew from the tip of Harry's wand and impacted the ring. There was a loud screeching sound as the ring stopped moving. Carefully levitating it into a dragon hide pouch, Harry placed the fake ring in its place.

"I still cannot believe you can perform the Killing Curse like it is second nature to you," said Sirius, looking alarmed and worried.

Harry maintained his silence. Unlike Sirius, Harry did study the Dark Arts after all and he knew the taboo on most of it was unwarranted. Sure, some of them should never have existed, the Horcruxes for one, but they did not fall under the purview of dark; that was black magic, which was highly illegal and dangerous.

Flicking his wand in a complicated gesture, muttering under his breath, the ancient Egyptian curse slipping easily from his lips, he finally pointed his wand to the ring as a ripple of magic impacted the ring, making it glow.

"There, it is done," said Harry as he put the ring back in place and repaired the damage done to the floor. "Now all we have to do is take care of any evidence that would lead us to believe we were here at all."

Sirius nodded as he began waving his wand and clearing the evidence. One hour later, the stone which was on the Gaunt ring was placed in the high-security vault at Potter Castle. The golden ring was melted with Fiendfyre to get rid of the curse placed on it.

Another Horcrux down … Now, if only they could find that blasted locket!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: While Harry knows the story of the Deathly Hallows, he has never seen the symbol, which is why he didn't recognise it. As for the locket, Sirius has never mentioned Kreacher, and Harry is under the assumption that the elf died when Voldemort left; he does have Voldemort's memories, so that's what he's going to believe. I know that Godric's story was the same one in Lightning Lord, but since I spent time and effort into it, I didn't want to change it much. As I've said before, I never liked it when one-quarter of the school was branded evil at the age of eleven just because an enchanted hat puts them in a particular House for being ambitious. Please read and review!_**


	20. The Quidditch World Cup

**_Chapter 20_**

 ** _The Quidditch World Cup_**

"Come on, laddie," barked Moody. "We have them surrounded."

Sirius watched from his position, biting his lower lip in anticipation. His idea of using the Muggle military really worked wonders. The Muggles had sighted a couple of the Death Eaters near Dover. Using utmost secrecy, they had selected the best Aurors they had under their command for this operation.

"Listen here everyone," said Sirius. "We have gone through the plan. We're going to split up. We have received intelligence that the Death Eaters are spread in two groups, so we're going to split up as well. Team Alpha, you'll be coming with me and Auror Moody. Team Beta, you'll be going with Director Black and Head Auror Scrimgeour. You know how dangerous they are. Coordinate with each other and take them out as quickly and efficiently as possible. We can't risk them trying to escape. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Minister," said Kingsley, speaking for them all.

"Good," said Sirius, nodding at them. "Split up; let's get started."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Peter Pettigrew panicked as he heard screams and saw flashes of spellfire. No, they couldn't have found them! They had been so cautious, so how had the Ministry managed to track them down so quickly? He saw Mulciber get killed by a severing curse. An Auror was also killed, but Moody managed to take out Jugson. Peter's eyes widened in shock as he saw his former best friend Sirius Black duel Rowle, who was one of the best duellists in the inner circle. Sirius was bleeding badly with several cuts all over his body, but he was able to hold his ground. Behind him, his wife Amelia was fighting like her husband, dodging everything Dolohov was throwing at her. Travers screamed in pain as three Aurors surrounded him and fired Reductor curses. He died of a massive hole in his chest but managed to wound an Auror in the process as well.

Peter's insane eyes glinted with worry. He had gained very useful information over the past few months. He could see that the Dark Mark was growing stronger, which meant that the Lestranges and Rookwood had found their master. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord returned to Britain. He couldn't fail their master! He needed to survive to give the Dark Lord all the information he had found out! Transforming into a rat, he scurried away. Ten minutes later, Rowle and Dolohov were killed by Minister of Magic Sirius Black and Head of the D.M.L.E. Amelia Black.

"Take the Minister and the injured Aurors to St Mungo's," said Amelia. "Quickly!"

Amelia looked at the pale form of her husband. He had managed to kill Rowle but he had lost a lot of blood in the process. She watched as four Aurors and Sirius disappeared using a Portkey.

"Damage report," said Amelia.

"Dawlish was killed in the skirmish with Mulciber," said Kingsley, looking worn and tired. "There are no more casualties as of this moment. Auror Roberts was injured by Travers, but he'll recover. The Death Eaters are dead."

"Good," breathed out Amelia. "Pack them up and send them back to the morgue at the Ministry. Search the area for the others. We still have Pettigrew, Rookwood and the Lestranges to catch."

"Yes ma'am."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The news of the deaths of the four Death Eaters was met with huge cheers by the people of Magical Britain. The common folk were singing Sirius' praises. The fact that the Minister of Magic himself had been involved in the fight and had killed Rowle personally induced a reaction of awe in everybody. Amelia was also highly praised. The Head of the D.M.L.E. had been the one to hold the press conference after the attack. Fresh from the battle, still displaying the scars on her body like a proud warrior, she had explained what had happened. The common witch and wizard were overjoyed, but they were warned that the Lestranges were still out there. Those three were nearly as dangerous as Voldemort himself.

The Quidditch World Cup was being held in Britain this year and massive preparation was needed to ensure that there were no problems. Muggle-repelling charms were placed over the entire area and any Muggles living near the site were Confunded and sent away for the duration so that the International Statute of Secrecy could not be breached. Hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards from all over the world were coming to watch the matches, especially the finals. International Floo and Portkey travel would become very busy, so more people were diverted to that. The Aurors were ordered to secure the area of the stadium so that security was not compromised.

Once he became Minister, Sirius had not wasted any time in allocating more funds for the D.M.L.E. In fact, he had personally donated a hundred thousand Galleons to the department himself, so they were quite well staffed. Not wanting to be outdone, several other families had donated as well after the Department of Magical Revenue introduced a tax deduction on donations to the D.M.L.E., but a certain shady kind with questionable connections stayed away.

Sirius had also met with the Triwizard Committee to discuss the tournament that was to be held at Hogwarts. The negotiations had been going on for three years and it was finally coming to fruition. The only black mark over the whole issue was that Barty Crouch was still the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Sirius had been very ticked off about that fact. Even though he was Minister, Heads of departments were recommended by him but appointed by the Wizengamot. That's why even though Fudge left office, the rest were doing their jobs. Crouch may have made a blunder with Sirius, but the man was still respected by many from when he was the Head of the D.M.L.E. during the last war. So he was here to stay ... for now.

Being so busy with the Ministry and international relations, Sirius and Amelia didn't have time to take care of the politics of the Wizengamot. Rigel was also growing up and the summer demanded that he was irritable. Of course, that's when Harry decided to step up and take charge. Once the second term at Hogwarts was over, he had enlisted the help of the Greengrasses and began planning a ball at Potter Castle, which left Sirius free to work on other matters.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry smiled and chatted with Lord and Lady Acton as they gathered in the Grand Ballroom at Potter Castle. The Potters had not thrown a ball at the castle for a couple of hundred years now and so no one here had seen the place. They were in awe of the wealth and splendour it had to offer and Harry had gone all out to impress the influential witches and wizards with it.

The Grand Ballroom was really well decorated. The house-elves had done a marvellous job. The marble floor had been charmed to make it sparkle, as if the floor was actually carved out of diamond. Multi-coloured flowers were placed in different areas of the ballroom and the decorations were exquisite. Large chandeliers emitting a golden light gave off an amazing display. All in all, it now looked fit for a king, a fact which wasn't far from the truth as the Potter family had stolen from Muggle royalty in the past.

"He's so adorable!" gushed Samantha Hudson, one of the elected representatives on the Wizengamot, as she joined Lady Acton and Madam Marchbanks. Little Rigel Black was nested in his godfather's arms, looking at everyone curiously. His hair was bright blue and eyes a stunning green, looking identical to Harry's.

"Oh, don't be fooled by his display," said Harry wryly. "He really knows how to get away from those taking care of him. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a week."

Rigel giggled and tapped Harry's face with his little hand. Harry smiled fondly as he kissed the boy's temple. "Please enjoy yourselves. I'm very happy that you could grace us with your presence here this evening."

Many others wanted to meet the little Heir Black so Harry was constantly surrounded by a group of girls. Of course, unknown to Harry, those girls not only wanted to meet the cute ten months old Metamorphmagus but also wanted to flirt with Harry. He was dressed today in navy blue Acromantula robes, his shirt buttons made of platinum and embedded with diamonds, handpicked by Lady Greengrass. His raven black hair was let loose this time, framing his face delicately so that Rigel could grab his locks whenever he wanted, making the girls coo over the baby's display in the process.

Harry was now standing more than six feet in height. His powerful inherent magic had made him reach puberty earlier than usual – and that was by magical standards and magical children reached puberty faster than Muggles anyway – and his body reflected that. He was hardly the only one, as this phenomenon was common among witches and wizards who were above average in terms of magical power. The daily exercises he did really helped him look positively scrumptious, giving him a strong, athletic and perfectly cut body. Right now, dressed in rich, tasteful-looking clothes that fit his muscular frame perfectly, he looked very handsome indeed.

"Can he change his hair colour to anything?" asked Parvati Patil excitedly.

"As long as he likes the colour, yes," said Harry, smiling at his godson. "Rigel, look!"

Opening his palm, Harry released a puff of dark red coloured smoke. Rigel giggled as he tried to catch it with his palms, his hair turning from blue to a deep shade of red.

"Wow," said Hestia Carrow, dragging the word slowly in amazement. Blinking her eyes flirtatiously, she said, "You're really good with kids, Harry."

"Yes, you are," Flora Carrow, Hestia's twin sister, moving closer as she smiled sweetly. "Not many boys your age like children, forget taking care of them."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Daphne pursed her lips as she looked across the Grand Ballroom. She was dressed in a beautiful flowing champagne coloured dress with silver accents; long diamond earrings sparkled from her ears. Her wavy dark blonde hair that reached the middle of her back was expertly styled and a butterfly-shaped hairclip was holding her hair in place. Daphne had developed quite nicely over the past year. Her deep blue eyes and rosy pink lips were already attracting attention from many a young man across the ballroom. Her lush breasts and delicate curves, enhanced due to long hours of dance practices, were eye candy to anyone who danced with her. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, with her magical powers – like Harry and most other witches and wizards her age – giving her the physical maturity of an eighteen-year-old Muggle, and Lord Cyrus Greengrass had been glaring at anyone who even looked at his two daughters the wrong way, much to the amusement of his wife.

"Look at that!" hissed Daphne, glaring daggers at Harry from across the ballroom. "Can they be any more obvious in their flirting with him?"

Dylan Lestrange chuckled as he silently sipped his drink.

"You find this funny?"

"I don't know why you're worried, Daph," Dylan replied, looking amused. "Harry loves you. He practically worships the ground you walk on."

"I don't know about that," she huffed, looking cross. "If he did, he wouldn't be flirting with a dozen girls over there!"

"If you don't like it, just go over there and put a stop to it," Dylan shrugged.

"Yeah, and be known as the psycho fiancée of Harry Potter?" snapped Daphne, looking at the group with narrowed eyes. "I can't do that even if I wanted to. I'm the host here, remember? Besides, my mother would kill me for not behaving in such a public place."

"You're jealous," Astoria stated triumphantly, coming to stand next to her.

"Am not!" Daphne retorted indignantly, but the fire in her eyes said something else. She spotted many of their schoolmates and heirs of important families dancing around the ballroom. Neville was dancing with Susan, looking quite shy in the process and doing his best not to step on her toes. Theo Nott and Tracy Davis were laughing as they tried to dance ridiculous moves, earning disapproving looks from Lord Nott for not behaving. Daphne grimaced when she saw Cormac McLaggen talking to a bunch of boys, bragging about himself. She had been requested to dance by him and after one song, wished she had never met him in the first place.

"Miss Greengrass, would you do me the honour of being my partner for this dance?" asked Draco Malfoy formally, stepping up to them.

Astoria giggled as he brushed his lips against her knuckles. "Of course, Draco," she said happily, allowing him to lead her forward.

The smile on Dylan's face faded slightly and he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut as he watched Draco and Astoria. Swallowing his discomfort and reinforcing his still developing mental shields, he turned away. A few moments later, he felt someone gently running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Daphne, cupping his face and brushing her thumb along his cheek in concern.

"Nothing," Dylan murmured.

"If you're sure ..." said Daphne, looking at him sceptically.

"Miss Greengrass, may I have this dance?" asked Cedric Diggory, extending his hand to her.

"Of course," smiled Daphne as she let him lead her away, still looking at Dylan suspiciously. She knew something was bothering him, but couldn't put a finger on it.

Dylan was busy, trying to hold a conversation with the older generation witches and wizards who wanted meeting him, but his eyes kept wandering to where Draco and Astoria were dancing. His stomach clenched but he didn't know why. He and Astoria were best friends; that was it, right? _Right?_ So why was he feeling like this?

Smiling stiffly at Lord and Lady Rosier who were speaking to him – rather disdainfully, in his opinion – he tried not to think about it, but it was proving to be difficult. There was only one person who could help him but it would have to wait until the ball was over.

He needed to talk to Daphne about this. Harry wouldn't understand anyway, so there was no point in even mentioning it to him. Dylan and Daphne had grown closer over the past year too. She was quite different from the emotionally detached Harry Potter, which was a good thing. She would most definitely help him here.

But another question kept nagging in his mind as his eyes trailed Draco and Astoria again. Did Astoria have a crush on Draco? That thought alone was enough to put a knot in Dylan's stomach.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Ah, Harry Potter," said Lucius Malfoy smoothly as he approached the host. "This is a very impressive castle you have here."

"It is our pride and joy, Lord Malfoy," said Harry, subconsciously tightening his hold on Rigel protectively. "It was constructed a few years prior to Hogwarts, actually. Some of the wards installed by Godric Gryffindor at Hogwarts were based on those installed here at Potter Castle."

"Really?" asked Lucius, looking at Harry speculatively. "Yet some would think your family is simply overly paranoid. A stone fortress around the grounds, a magical moat around the castle and the wards themselves; a bit of overkill, in my opinion …"

Harry simply smiled slightly. "This castle is the reason the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is not extinct when there was an attack on the family about two hundred years ago. When one has a lot of enemies, you tend to protect yourself and unfortunately, I'm as paranoid as my ancestors, having a lot of enemies myself. The confines of this castle provide me with the best protection possible."

"Indeed," said Lucius, having to grudgingly admit that the defences were very good. He still kept his eyes open for any vulnerability that could be used to exploit if the situation ever arises. "The Potter Massacre; such a horrifying and dark past which the Potters have to remember forever, isn't it? The black mark can never be erased."

"Oh, we all have some shady characters in the family tree, Lord Malfoy," said Harry with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And in some cases, we have some dangerous skeletons in our closet as well. Why, your family has it too, doesn't it? Oh, the horror of a pureblood Malfoy trying to curry the favour of a Muggle in order to marry her ..."

Lucius' eyes were slits of fury as his upper lip curled. "Good luck with your N.E.W.T.s, Mr Potter. You'll be taking them at the end of next year, I trust? I shall be looking forward to seeing what you do with your life. Stay safe. It is not wise to remain unprotected when you are housing a dangerous target. I wonder what Rabastan Lestrange would say were he to know that his bast – _ahem_ – illegitimate son now wears the Heir ring."

"Well, since House Lestrange would have gone extinct if not for Dylan, I would say he should be pleased," said Harry dispassionately.

Malfoy pursed his lips and nodded, walking away. He would have to explore the place to the best of his ability and find a weakness to it. Even the most heavily fortified structure had a weakness; he just needed to find it.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

After the last of the guests had left, Harry changed out of his dress robes, opting to wear only his boxer-briefs instead. Walking back down, he plopped himself on the comfortable couch in the informal drawing room, relaxing as the environmental charms around the room blew cool air in his face. He was exhausted and was glad that Dylan had taken the responsibility of putting Rigel to sleep.

"Had fun at the ball?" asked Daphne as she sat down opposite to him. She too had changed out of her formal dress.

"Oh yes," he said, closing his eyes. "It went better than I thought it would. What about you? I noticed that you were annoyed with Cormac McLaggen. I don't blame you. I've heard rumours of his bragging skills."

"You noticed?" asked Daphne bitterly, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. She gave a watery chuckle. "I'm impressed! And here I thought you had forgotten about my existence the entire evening."

Harry's eyes immediately snapped open. "What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Don't play innocent with me," snapped Daphne angrily. "You didn't talk to me during the entire event. You didn't ask me to dance with you – not once! Instead, you were flirting with every girl that caught your fancy. If you were planning on … do you have intentions of … why did you do it, Harry?"

"Do what?!" asked Harry incredulously. "Daphne, the whole point of this ball was to socialise with everyone. Everybody present wanted to talk to me and, well, I didn't have time to search for you. Besides, we were hosting the ball, and with everything going on, it's not like we _had_ to talk to each other at the time."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Daphne shook her head, and the young wizard was startled to see tears pool in her eyes. He couldn't understand what was going on.

"So, you had been planning it all along," she said in a hollow voice. "I should have known … how stupid of me to have not realised it until now!"

Swallowing hard, Daphne stood up shakily and murmured, "Good night, Harry. I'll see you at the World Cup."

Harry's eyes widened. _World Cup?_ That was _weeks_ away! Did his fiancée just say that he wouldn't get to see her until then? Getting to his feet, he rapidly moved towards her to stop her from leaving.

"Daphne, what the hell is wrong with you?" asked Harry angrily.

"What's wrong with _me_?" shouted Daphne, her eyes suddenly blazing with fury. "You expect me to remain calm about all this? You ignored me for several hours straight! The ball went on for five hours! Not once did you talk to me or did we make an appearance together! Yes, you were busy talking to people from old to young, but that's the problem. You did it alone! We're betrothed and we should have done it together!"

"You could have just come up to me yourself. Not everything is my fault," said Harry stiffly.

"And how was I to do that when you were being surrounded by girls the entire time? Don't be dense, Harry. They weren't there only for Rigel; they were there to curry favour with you!"

"But what's the point?" asked Harry coldly. "I'm already betrothed to you, aren't I? How would it matter if they flirted with me? Why in Merlin's name are you blowing things way out of proportion? You're honestly not making any sense!"

"Really?" asked Daphne incredulously. "You still haven't realised why I'm this upset? Why didn't you just tell me what you were planning? At least then, I wouldn't have gotten this emotionally involved with you!"

"Oh, just spit it out, will you? What the hell has gotten into you today?" asked Harry, gritting his teeth. "If you're jealous because people were around me –"

"Not another word, Potter," said Daphne, her eyes glinting dangerously, not wanting to admit that he was spot on in detecting her jealousy. "Clearly, since you are too stupid to realise what is going on –"

Harry's eyes flashed angrily at being called stupid. " _Well_?" he hissed, switching to Parseltongue for an instant in his anger. "Tell me, Greengrass, what did I miss?"

"You have a duel Lordship, a phenomenon that, historically, has nearly always attracted multiple partners for the sole heir or heiress," said Daphne quietly, looking down at her feet. "You are the future Lord Potter-Gryffindor and the Greengrass Lordship will also be inherited by our children. All those girls were doing their best to gain favour with you for that reason. Polygamy and polyandry are rare, but not unheard of. Since you avoided me the entire evening, it's not far off for me to assume that you were looking for a future wife for those titles. If you were considering it, you could have at least told me, Harry. Didn't it cross your mind that I deserve to be informed about it?"

Daphne paused when she was greeted with silence. She looked up in confusion and blinked in surprise at the shocked expression on her fiancé's face. They stood there for a few moments, simply staring at the other, trying to understand what the other was feeling. After nearly a minute, Harry sighed and gently guided her to the sofa. Kneeling before her, taking her hands in his, he began.

"Daphne," he said softly. "I swear to you, such thoughts never even crossed my mind! I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know."

"Y-You mean," she stuttered, "You weren't actually –"

" _No!_ Never! And as for us not making an appearance together, Daph, I seriously don't think anyone noticed!"

"You may not have noticed it, but everybody at the ball did," Daphne whispered miserably as she wiped the tears away. "Just wait and see. Girls will start flirting with you shamelessly to gain your attention, thinking you're willing to take another wife. You might start to get offers from their parents for betrothal contracts and –"

That was all she said before Harry silenced her with a kiss. Sitting down next to her on the couch, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer. Tilting his head to the side, he deepened the kiss, making Daphne moan slightly. Pushing her on her back, he collapsed on top of her, still kissing her. After a minute, they broke apart, gasping for air.

"I know that I should say this more often," said Harry quietly. "I love you very much, Daphne. No girl could compare to you, now or ever! I didn't know that they were flirting with me, honest! I thought they were there for Rigel. I didn't think you would jump to conclusions like this. I'm really sorry, Daphne. But if you're worried about the future, then don't, because there is no way in hell that I'm getting married to anyone but you. You are my one and only. A wise man once said that you insult your wife by taking another and I truly believe that with all my heart."

Daphne's heart swelled with emotion, and she looked like she would burst with happiness. Cupping his face, she whispered, "I'm sorry too, Harry. I –"

Not giving her a chance to speak, he once again kissed her passionately. Daphne enjoyed it, smiling into the kiss as her hands roamed over the skin of his upper body. Harry was hers and no one was going to say otherwise.

Harry smiled as he kissed her jaw, secretly enjoying how she was acting. He never thought that Daphne could be so possessive of him but he liked it. They were already betrothed so it was natural that they felt the other belonged to them, but he had to admit that neither of them had any experience with romance. They could only learn as they went along.

Sitting up, he pulled her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Are you happy now?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Daphne breathed out, running her fingers over his firm chest. Nuzzling his face against hers, she placed light kisses along the side of his face adoringly. "And I love you too."

They stayed there for a while, listening to each other's heartbeats before they locked lips in a heated kiss. Both of them groaned softly in arousal as their hands roamed. Harry's fingers deftly undid the buttons of Daphne's nightdress and slowly slid his hand up.

Daphne giggled slightly, pulling away from him. "Someone's being a bit forward," she teased.

Harry looked back at her with mock innocence. "I figured you'd stop me if you didn't want me to proceed."

"Just stop you? I have half a mind to chop your hands off, Potter!"

A soft laugh escaped his mouth as he pulled her closer, capturing her earlobe with his teeth and nibbling on it. "Highly unlikely," he murmured. "You love me too much to do that."

Daphne moaned sweetly as he began to kiss her neck. She whispered coyly, "You shouldn't believe everything you hear. I'm a compulsive liar."

This time Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Liar," he shot back softly.

Their faces inched closer and soon, they began kissing lazily. Daphne's dress lay pooled on the floor next to them, with her sitting on Harry's lap wearing only her bra and panties.

"You're so beautiful," murmured Harry in awe, taking in the sight before him.

Daphne blushed. She captured his lips in another searing kiss as his hands moved towards her breasts, cupping them. He seemed unsure of how to proceed, so she placed a hand on his and squeezed gently. Wanting to pleasure her fiancé in return, the young Greengrass heiress traced her fingers over the prominent bulge in his underwear.

Harry groaned into her mouth and Daphne couldn't help but smile.

With quick movements, his cock was free from the confines of his underwear and Daphne wasted no time in wrapping her hand around it. It felt warm and hard in her hand. Slowly, she began stroking it.

Pulling back from the kiss, she murmured, "Is that okay?"

Harry made a noise of agreement. They continued kissing slowly, both enjoying the development in the physical aspect of their relationship.

Ten minutes later, they heard the patter of feet on the marble floor outside the drawing room and within moments, Dylan interrupted their solitude. Strangely, he looked crestfallen, something the couple picked up immediately. Harry raised his eyebrows at his fiancée but Daphne shook her head, indicating that she too had no idea why the younger boy was upset. They untangled themselves from each other's arms, looking at the boy worriedly.

"Okay, there's something bothering you," said Daphne quietly as she got off Harry's lap to get dressed. "What's wrong, Dylan?"

Dylan simply raised an eyebrow at their appearance. Harry was practically naked, with his erect cock sticking out of the waistband of his light grey boxer-briefs while Daphne's nightdress was on the floor, wrinkled and creased, with her wearing only a pair of black coloured bra and panties. With a mental shrug, he sat down. After having walked in on them various times over the past year, he was not surprised or embarrassed to see them in such a state.

"I don't understand it myself," he admitted finally. "I – I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach when Draco Malfoy asked Astoria to dance."

"Oh, Dylan," said Daphne softly, moving over to give him a warm hug. He immediately melted into her embrace like it was the most natural thing in the world. "It's just a dance."

"Yeah, and they spent the next two hours with each other," muttered Dylan. Harry and Daphne shared looks with each other. Clearly, they had not anticipated this.

"Do you harbour romantic feelings for Astoria?"

"I don't know," he said, running his fingers through his brown hair, upsetting the loose curls. "I – I think I do. I mean, she's my best friend and – well – what's there to not like about her? And now Malfoy comes over and, we're still twelve, I know, but – what chance do I stand against someone like Malfoy?"

"Oh, please," Daphne scoffed. "If there ever was a competition between you and Draco, you would win hands down."

"Exactly," said Harry, sitting on the sofa by his brother's side.

" _What?_ "

"I swear, I'm stuck with the two most clueless boys on the planet," muttered Daphne, shaking her head. "Listen here, lover boy. This is not a competition for my sister's heart, but even if it were, you would win. You and Tori are already close friends. You are a model student; people like talking to you – trust me, there are many who don't like Draco because of his arrogance – you are a Lestrange, so you have the money and standing in society –"

"And a bastard to boot," said Dylan bitterly.

"Dylan, you have to get over that!" Harry said harshly. "There is no escaping it, just like there is no escaping the fact that I'm a Parselmouth. You need to accept the situation for what it is and move on. There isn't anything you can do about it!"

"– not to mention you are much better looking than albino Draco," finished Daphne, acting as though she hadn't been interrupted.

"I'm not better looking than Malfoy," protested Dylan.

"Okay, now you are just fishing for compliments," Daphne glared at him. "Trust me, Dylan, I'm a girl. I know what to look for in a guy and what makes him desirable and there is no comparison between you and Draco. You were looking very handsome today and you know it! I never had to give this speech to Harry because unlike you, he knows of his good looks and is rather proud of it."

"I'm not vain," Harry exclaimed. "Besides, I still stand by the notion that looks aren't everything, but who listens to me?"

"I never said you were," Daphne chuckled. "My point is, if there ever is a choice between you and Draco, I'm confident Tori will make the right choice."

"Daphne, they're only twelve," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, and we are only fourteen. It doesn't matter. From what I have heard from some of the Muggle-borns in school, most Muggles tend to date a lot of different people before they settle down. In the magical world, that doesn't happen, does it? My grandmother – who is a magical theorist, mind you – believes that a witch or wizard's inherent magic would guide them to people who might be the best match for them. Not sure how true it is, but it does explain why such attraction starts young for some and later for others. Your father had an eye on your mother since the age of eleven, did he not?"

Harry nodded in confirmation.

"Well, with my parents, they hardly dated anyone until they were nineteen, which was when they became friends and developed feelings for the other," said Daphne. "But that's not the problem right now. Let me talk to Astoria and –"

"Wait, don't!" cried Dylan, panicking. "If she realises that I like her then –"

"Oh, give me some credit, Dylan!" said Daphne, sounding irritated. "I'm not going to do it directly. I'll let you know of any progress. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Giving Harry a kiss on the cheek, she headed towards the fireplace to Floo home.

Harry folded his arms behind his head. "This certainly has been an interesting day," he muttered.

Dylan groaned as his head hit the back of the sofa. He really hoped that Daphne did not blow it with Astoria. The last thing he wanted was for him to lose his best friend.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

At the end of August, the finals of the Quidditch World Cup approached. Security was beefed up considerably as a million people had come to watch the finals. The turnout was greater than anyone expected. Apparently, Fudge had done a number on international relations, but Sirius took that job seriously when he became Minister of Magic. That, in turn, led to more witches and wizards coming to Britain for the World Cup. The stadium was truly an awe-inspiring spectacle of magic. Great care was taken to ensure that no Muggles were near the vicinity.

Harry and Dylan had taken their respective roles well; Sirius being their guardian meant they had to take part in many diplomatic functions. Harry barely had time to finish attending the sword-fighting class he had enrolled for the summer with how busy he was in interacting with so many international ambassadors and heads of magical governments, not to mention their delegates.

Since he was the Boy-Who-Lived, it generated a lot of attention for him. No one else in the history of the nine hundred plus years of the Killing Curse had ever survived it after making contact with a person, much less reflect it back at the caster – as a baby! Harry didn't mind, though. This was an outstanding opportunity to make international contacts and he was quite happy to speak with them. Languages weren't a problem in the magical world. A translation potion ensured that you could speak and understand any other language, but unfortunately, it didn't work on magical languages like Parseltongue.

The finals of the World Cup had Ireland playing Bulgaria. The stadium holding a million people was packed with advertisements and vendors of every kind. Harry smiled when he saw the biggest hit of them all – Miller's Magic Mirrors. Stores had opened in all six continents after Harry had been willing to spend an additional twenty-five million Galleons on it – it had been worth every single coin of gold. The mirrors had been a major hit everywhere and Harry couldn't believe the amount of gold he was receiving as he owned half the company. Serena Miller had become a world-famous enchantress in a blink of an eye. Her face now appeared in magical business magazines and she had repeatedly thanked Harry for what he had done. Truthfully, she would never have become this big without Harry willing to contribute millions of Galleons to fund her business.

Then there had been the simple, unintentional investment he and Sirius had made a few years prior. Firebolt Broomsticks had been very new to the market and Harry had found it interesting that the manufacturer said he was going to create a new form of broomsticks that would be the fastest in the world. Giving him a chance, they both had invested in it on the advice of Ragnok – not knowing that it would be very profitable in the future. The Firebolt had become THE broomstick for Quidditch in international matches. Harry himself had been gifted one by his godfather for his birthday and he couldn't believe how amazing it was.

As they climbed up the stairs of the stadium, they reached the Top Box which had several purple and glit chairs, clearly meant for important people – and those who could afford the outrageous prices needed to sit here. Apparently, Lucius did not mind spending thousands of Galleons on three seats as he, Narcissa and Draco were here. Harry chuckled mentally. Say what you want about Lucius, but there was no denying that he loved his family. Not many would have spent that much money to take their son to a Quidditch match and acquire seats at the Top Box, but then again, Lucius might have been here to make business connections himself.

Sirius and Amelia were dressed in rich robes as they greeted the delegation brought by the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria. Harry had to blink a few times when he spotted the last people he expected to see here.

"What are you guys doing here?" asked Harry with a surprised smile.

"Attending the Quidditch World Cup, of course!" said Fred Weasley happily.

"Ludo Bagman owed a few large favours to dad," George told him quietly.

"Ah, understood."

"Harry, this is our oldest brother Bill," said Fred. "He works for Gringotts as a curse-breaker. And this is our second-oldest brother, Charlie. He works in the Romanian Dragon Reserve. Guys, this is our friend, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Potter," Bill smiled as he shook Harry's hand. "Fred and George have told us a lot about you."

"It's not every day you get to meet your boss," grinned Charlie.

Harry chuckled as he shook Charlie's hand. Ron Weasley apparently heard that so he said, "What boss?"

"Harry owns the dragon reserve Charlie works for," George answered with a casual shrug.

Daphne had been observing the family critically.

The Weasley family, until recently, had been very poor but the incident with Lockhart, however bad it was, helped them as it gave them a lot of money. They got half of Lockhart's total wealth, which thanks to his book sales, was considerable for someone of their station. The clothes they now wore were not second hand and the increase in their confidence was noticeable.

Hearing a child crying, Harry turned around. Amelia was trying to calm Rigel down, unsuccessfully, as she already hands her hands full.

"Harry, please calm him down," said Amelia desperately, handing the baby off to his godfather.

"Don't worry, Aunt Amy, I'll handle it," said Harry soothingly, taking the baby from her arms. "Oh, come on Rigel. Cheer up. Look! Those advertisements are sparkly!"

Dylan also joined him and people in the top box were given a show of the twelve and fourteen-year-old boys trying to calm down the one-year-old baby. After about fifteen minutes, his crying subsided and Rigel's hair turned auburn and eyes his favourite shade of emerald green.

Astoria was chatting with Dylan, telling how cute it was to watch him with little Rigel when someone else decided to make their presence known.

"Hello Astoria," said Draco in his usual drawling voice.

"Oh, Hi Draco," Astoria smiled brightly. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I wasn't about to miss the World Cup!" said Draco, grinning. Dylan quietly left, not wanting to be involved in their conversation, something which Astoria noticed. Not that Draco had acknowledged Dylan anyway, so it didn't matter.

Sitting next to Harry and Daphne, he sighed. "I take it you still haven't spoken to her?" he asked quietly.

"Not yet," said Daphne. "I was thinking of doing it tonight."

A few minutes later, Astoria returned and sat next to Dylan, wondering why he was suddenly silent and withdrawn. Harry handed Rigel over to Daphne and went to Sirius who had beckoned him. He spent several minutes talking to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and his daughter who wanted to be a professional duellist once she graduated from Durmstrang. Daphne pursed her lips at seeing the Minister's daughter blatantly flirting with Harry and checking him out, but kept her silence.

The Irish team mascots were unveiled and it turned out that the Department of Magical Games and Sports had really outdone themselves. Leprechauns were flying over their heads, dropping thick gold coins. Harry was quite amused when people began diving under their seats, trying to scoop as many coins as they could.

"And now the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" shouted Ludo Bagman, looking expectantly down at the pitch.

"I should have known," said Daphne darkly as the Veela emerged. She blinked her eyes in shock when Harry simply kissed her on the cheek.

"Who needs Veela when I have you?" he whispered in her ear. Daphne felt her face heat up as she blushed.

Dylan wasn't so successful in fighting off the allure, though. He had gotten up and was about to dive from the Top Box (not that he would have succeeded as there were wards preventing anyone from doing that), but he was pulled back by an annoyed looking Astoria.

"Huh?" he said, looking confused. "What's going on?"

"You were affected by the Veela allure," said Astoria through gritted teeth. Somehow, she didn't like it. She knew it was natural for all young boys and men to be affected by it – hell, even Harry's gaze had softened – but when Dylan acted like that, her stomach clenched painfully. Why did that happen?

"Oh," said Dylan, blushing madly. "Sorry about that."

And then the game started. It was really amazing, especially with the enormous Miller's mirrors being placed at every corner of the stadium. Small crystals followed the players everywhere and once the goal was scored, the mirrors would play the same in slow motion. Everyone enjoyed themselves and the food served at the Top Box was spectacular. The match ended with Ireland winning 170-160 with Victor Krum catching the snitch. The noise was deafening but Harry had already placed a silencing charm around Rigel so that he did not have to deal with the noise. Once the trophies were handed out, people began leaving the stadium to celebrate. The people in the Top Box adjourned to the after party which was held with all the players and officials.

Amelia had given strict instructions to ensure everything was under control outside. The last thing they needed was something to destroy all the good international relations they had built up over the past six months.

"You were brilliant, Mr Krum," said Harry, smiling slightly at the seeker. "I have tried the Wronksi Feint many times myself, but I must admit, I usually pull up a little higher than you."

"Harry Potter, right?" asked Krum, frowning slightly.

"Yes, nice to meet you," said Harry shaking his hand.

"You're a seeker too?"

"I play for my House team at Hogwarts," Harry shrugged. "We were able to win the Quidditch Cup for the last two years. I love the game, but I don't think I'll be playing professionally. I heard you're still at school. It must be difficult to manage school and practice sessions at the same time."

"You get used to it after a while. I love playing Quidditch which is why I deal with it, though I could do without -"

"– the creepy, stalking fans?" finished Harry, looking amused. "I can understand how you feel. I've just gotten used to dealing with it."

The after party went on for a few hours as delicious food was served to everyone. At two in the morning when Sirius, Amelia, Harry, Rigel and Dylan returned to Black Manor, they breathed a sigh of relief. The Quidditch World Cup had ended without any problems and had been a massive hit.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Daphne? You awake?"

"I am now. Come on in, Tori."

The lighting charms activated to a dim setting, bathing the room with light. Daphne was sprawled on her bed and was looking at her sister with one eye open. Astoria closed the door of the room and sat down on the bed.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," said Astoria, looking nervous. Daphne raised an eyebrow. It was a far cry from the confident, sarcastic girl she was used to.

"What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Astoria began. She told Daphne about how Dylan's behaviour had confused her at the World Cup. She had noticed that he had become withdrawn suddenly and didn't speak to her. Then it was her reaction to him being attracted to the Veela. She was quite confused.

"Do you like him, Tori?" asked Daphne, observing her sister.

"I – I don't know," admitted Astoria. "I mean, he's my best friend and we spend a lot of time with each other; he's cute and – I thought I had a crush on Draco, but now ..."

After a minute of silence, she said, "What if he stops being my friend if he realises that like him? What if he feels awkward around me? I don't want to lose him."

Daphne smiled. "Tell me something; why do you think Dylan became withdrawn before the match?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what were you doing right before that happened?"

"I was talking to Draco," answered Astoria promptly.

"Uh-huh. I noticed the same reaction in him during the ball at Potter Castle. When Draco asked you to dance, he became silent and withdrawn."

"Why?" asked Astoria with a frown on her face.

"Oh, come on, Tori!" snapped Daphne. "You're smarter than that! Put the pieces together! Dylan is a chatterbox. For him to become silent like that means he didn't like you spending time with Draco!"

"But why would he not like it?" urged Astoria. "Unless –"

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean – he has a crush on me?"

"I don't know," Daphne shrugged casually. "That's something you have to figure out yourself. But tell me something – if there ever were a competition for your heart between Draco Malfoy and Dylan Lestrange, who do you think would win?"

Astoria stared out of the windows, the cool breeze ruffling her brown hair as a small, shy smile formed on her lips. Her cheeks turned pink as she got off the bed.

"Thanks, Daphne," she said quietly. "Can you keep this between us?"

"Of course, what are sisters for?" Daphne smirked at her. "You have another year before you actually start dating boys, Tori. Daddy wouldn't allow you to date before that. Take your time."

"I don't need time," whispered Astoria as she left the room with a happy smile on her face. A smirk formed on her lips as she thought about many delicious ways she could give Dylan hints about her having a crush on him, but not outright telling him. This was going to be fun!


	21. Back to the Chamber

**_Chapter 21_**

 ** _Back to the Chamber_**

The room in Riddle Manor was filled with people who were kneeling in front of the lone armchair by the fireplace. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Rookwood, Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Junior were all kneeling in front of the babyish form of Lord Voldemort.

"Rise, my faithful Death Eaters," said the high, cold voice. "We have gained valuable information thanks to Wormtail's spying on the wizarding population and from the mind of that Ministry witch, Bertha Jorkins. Barty here has had the time to listen to his father speak of the Ministry's dealings and operations during all those years he was held captive, so we have classified information at our disposal. It is time we show them the true power of Lord Voldemort."

"I cannot believe my blood traitor of a cousin is now Lord Black!" shrieked Bellatrix, "and Minister of Magic to boot!"

"That is most definitely something we hadn't anticipated, my Lord," said Barty. "Amelia Bones is now married to Sirius Black and they are a formidable team. Ever since Black became Minister, there have been several changes. International relations between Magical Britain and the rest of the world are at an all-time high. He is also more efficient, which was how Rowle, Dolohov, Jugson, Travers and Mulciber were killed. He is a dangerous adversary."

"We can deal with Sirius Black later," said Voldemort coldly. "But first, I must get my body back. I will be using a ritual of my own design, but the potion needs to stew for nine months using very rare and hard to find ingredients, culminating on the night of the summer solstice. I also need the blood of an enemy and right now, there is no one better than Harry Potter, the boy who caused my downfall." _Twice – once when he was a baby, and the next when he was eleven years old. I need the blood of the boy who was willing to commit cold-blooded murder at the age of eleven._ "I will need his blood to make me stronger than ever before."

"Barty, here is what you must do," ordered Voldemort. After explaining the plan to him, he turned to the others, "You all will have to begin working on the potion. I will also send you on missions so that we can begin recruiting the dark creatures. We shall not call the rest of the Death Eaters yet. Their welcome shall be _special_."

"However," said Voldemort, his red eyes gleaming, "we do need the specialised services of one of them. Contact Macnair and bring him here. We need to send envoys to the Giants. I'm not sure how successful we would be with Vampires, but we need to find Greyback if we are to have the werewolves on our side again. Begin searching for him. The Dementors can be taken care of once I regain my full powers."

All of them grinned savagely. "Wormtail here will continue his role in spying on the wizarding population," said Voldemort. "Any new piece of information or magical technology which we can use – he'll let us know so that we can take advantage of it. Barty, are you up to the task?"

"I live to serve you, my Lord," said Barty, looking at Voldemort with respect shining in his eyes.

"Good," said Voldemort. Smirking, he turned to one other. "Rabastan, you have been awfully quiet. Any thoughts about this newly discovered son of yours? Barty here tells me the boy wears the Heir ring of your family on his finger, so there is no doubt that he is your son."

"No son of a Mudblood is a son of mine," spat Rabastan. "The heir of the noble Lestrange line being a half-blood is inconceivable!"

"Not to worry, my friend," said Voldemort smirking coldly. "Your family's taint shall be taken care of soon enough."

Rabastan didn't mention the conflicting emotions he was feeling within him. He had a son ... _Dylan_ ... Oh, he remembered the boy's mother, alright; the beautiful Muggle-born witch he had violated. Rabastan still felt sick just by thinking about it. He and the rest of the Death Eaters had done a lot of vicious things in their lives, but _never_ in his life would Rabastan ever have imagined that he would have been capable of doing that to a woman, even if it was a filthy Mudblood. He had been intoxicated that night, not in his senses, and he had let his body overrule his mind and instead of killing the young Mudblood, he had raped her.

Even the vegetative state of the Longbottoms had never bothered Rabastan, nor did the countless deaths he was responsible for, but this one memory was something he couldn't ever forget. He had violated one of the most sacred laws of Magic. Was this a way to make up for it? He had been given a chance to redeem himself for what he believed to be the one and only mistake of his life and he would use it to the best of his ability.

He would ensure that his son joined their side of the war, no matter what it takes. He would ensure Pettigrew checked for any information available on Dylan Lestrange. His stomach clenched every time he thought of the boy since he had found out about Dylan's existence – how was he? Did Dylan look like him? How was the boy raised? Was he already corrupted by Muggle-loving fools like Dumbledore?

Rabastan knew that his brother was actually pleased about it since Rodolphus and Bellatrix could not have a child through natural means and Azkaban had robbed them of the ability to have a child using other methods. It was disgusting that the boy was a half-blood and a bastard to boot, but Rabastan didn't find himself caring much about that. This was _his_ _son_.

One more year and Dylan would be back with his family where he should have been all along. The next generation of Lestranges would continue to serve the Dark Lord, just like his generation and the one before him.

Neither Rodolphus nor Rabastan noticed the anger in Bellatrix's eyes whenever Dylan was mentioned.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The first of September dawned bright and early and the house-elves at Potter Castle were busy preparing a heavy breakfast for the two occupants. Harry shrunk his trunk, with Hedwig flying to Hogwarts, as he came down the stairs. After breakfast, Harry and Dylan packed the lunch the elves had prepared for them and Flooed to the platform.

Once they entered the train, the two brothers headed in different directions towards their friends. Spotting Daphne in a compartment, Harry opened the door and pulled her into a deep kiss. They only parted when someone cleared their throat.

"That is not something you do when you have company," said Susan wryly.

Harry chuckled as he gracefully sat down next to Daphne and the compartment soon filled with several people from all four Houses. The train journey was smooth without any interruptions and after several hours, they reached Hogsmeade station. Once they entered the Great Hall, Harry sat down at the Ravenclaw table and observed those around him. After a few minutes, Dylan sat down next to him, looking a bit dazed, confused and perhaps slightly smug.

Putting up a privacy charm with just a wave of his hand, Harry asked, "What's up?"

"Draco Malfoy came to our compartment during the train ride," said Dylan, smiling slightly. "When he did, he greeted Astoria and ignored me as always. By the way, what did you do to him? He had been the most vocal of those who used to call me a bastard, but now he ignores that I even exist!"

"You don't want to know," smirked Harry. "Besides, Draco himself doesn't know that I was the one who spoke to him a year ago. You were saying?"

Chuckling, Dylan said, "Well, he asked Astoria to join him in his compartment. She politely declined and went back to speaking to me, right in front of him. When he tried to gain her attention, it didn't work so well. I was shocked when she took my hand in hers as we were talking. I swear I could see steam coming out of his ears by the time he left with his goons. The best part is that she never let go of my hand during the entire train ride!"

Harry smiled. Looks like Daphne's talk with Astoria had worked. Shaking his head in amusement, he concentrated on the sorting, memorising the new names and faces like he did every year. Everyone in the room was shocked when they noticed that Remus Lupin was still there as the Defence teacher. He was the first witch or wizard in a long time that had stayed as the Defence Professor for more than a year because there were rumours that it was cursed. Of course, Harry had verified that theory using Voldemort's memories. There was no curse; just a very powerful compulsion charm cast using Parseltongue and linked to the Defence classroom, making the teacher not stay for more than a year.

It went without saying that Harry had removed the charm at the end of the previous term.

Once the feast was over and the plates cleared away, Dumbledore stood up to make his usual start of term announcements. Once the usual speech was done with, he continued and said, "I have a great pleasure in announcing that we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century - the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year!"

"You're JOKING!" shouted Fred Weasley in awe.

Harry's face remained impassive, but the twinkle in his eyes showed that he was quite amused. Even Dumbledore's beard twitched as he smiled. "No, Mr Weasley, I'm not joking," he said, sounding deeply amused. "A lot of work has gone into this over the past three years, so trust me, I would hardly joke about it. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament."

He went on to explain the history of the tournament and why it was discontinued and about the twenty-five thousand Galleons personal prize money.

"– only those who are of seventeen or older will be able to participate," said Dumbledore amidst protests. Once he explained the finer details and announced that the delegations of the foreign schools would arrive in October, he dismissed all the students.

Harry shook his head, amused as he observed several students who were grumbling under their breath. The tournament sounded like fun, sure, but if it were him, he would stay the hell away from it. He knew what the first task was and as he had said three years ago, if he ever saw a dragon in front of him, he would head in the other direction; the basilisk was bad enough. His sense of self-preservation would not allow him to even think of participating, even if he could talk Dumbledore into it. Technically, he _could_ participate because he was a seventh-year student, but from what Sirius had told him, it was essential that the champion is an adult, meaning he or she is seventeen years old. The contract created by the I.C.W. and enforced by the Goblet of Fire demanded it, which was why he couldn't take part in the tournament.

Even without participating, he was sure that it would be fun to watch!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Once everyone had gone to bed, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak, held the Marauder's Map in his hand as he made his way to the first-floor girl's bathroom. Once inside, he cast a detection charm. He snickered when he found an alert charm – Dumbledore's work. Disabling it, he looked at the tap and hissed, " _Open!"_

When the pipe was visible to him, he stuffed the cloak inside the expanded pocket of his trousers and jumped. The pipe was just as slimy as last time and once he landed, he flicked his wand at himself, making the dirt and slime disappear from his body.

"Tippy!" he called. Harry frowned when no elf arrived. There were probably anti-elf wards in place. He went forward and examined the shed skin. There was so much shed skin here! He would have to harvest it all. Moving forward, he opened the door to the chamber and stepped inside.

The basilisk's corpse was perfectly preserved. The inherent magic of the snake must have preserved decay or there must be an ancient variety of a preservation charm on the entire chamber. He slowly went forward and looked at the corpse of the magnificent creature. It was probably the last of its kind and it had been killed. After a silent prayer of apology for taking its life, Harry got to work. He began casting detection charms in every direction. From what he knew, Tom Riddle had tried to search for any hidden room in the Chamber of Secrets, but he had been unsuccessful in getting past a barrier which was powered by ancient blood wards. But Harry was going to try it. He had been curious about it since the time he had read Godric's journal. According to Godric, Salazar's family had vivid emerald green eyes, a natural colour which had never been seen in any other human. This had gotten Harry curious. Was it possible?

Finding something strange at the base of the statue, he began hissing in Parseltongue, using detection and revealing spells. After twenty minutes of trial and error, a pedestal appeared. Harry understood what had to be done. Now he would know if his theory was correct. Taking a deep breath, he sliced his palm and let the drops of blood fall on the pedestal. The blood was absorbed and it glowed, making a stone door appear as it opened with a groan.

Harry's heart was beating a mile a minute. His theory was right! He and his mother were the descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself! There was no way he could have bypassed the blood ward if he did not have Slytherin blood in him.

It was a known fact – even though the traditionalist purebloods did not want to openly admit it – that all Muggle-borns were the descendants of a witch or wizard. Witches and wizards were different from Muggles at the microscopic level which was their DNA. _That_ was where the differences started. Many witches and wizards had studied the differences over the centuries, but no real explanation was given as to why Muggles existed in the first place. It was also a proven fact that once upon a time, the planet had been a habitat to magical human beings only but at some point in time, a mutation had occurred in the DNA of select human beings, creating humans without the power of magic in their blood – Muggles.

Initially, they had been very limited in number, with magical humans being the dominant race, but several millennia later, especially in the period of the two thousand years before Harry's time, with the current century being the worst, Muggle population had increased drastically, outnumbering witches and wizards as they reproduced at an exponential and illogical rate. With the Magical Royal Houses having come to an end all over the world and Muggles taking their place, the balance had been irrevocably broken, completely shattering the last vestiges of peace between magical humans and Muggles.

Since their DNA itself was different, it was impossible for two Muggles to create a magical child. Through outward appearance, no one could tell if a human were magical or Muggle, but the differences went deeper than that. The average lifespan of a magical human, for example, was at least two or three times the average lifespan of a Muggle. Magical children too developed faster than Muggles, from babies to teenagers. This was also the reason Harry had been able to speak fluently when he was a child while Dudley could not. Witches and wizards entered puberty early and their body's accelerated growth would slow down at the age of seventeen, which was why it was universally considered the age of reaching adulthood in the case of magical humans. After that, witches and wizards would age slowly to the point where a ninety-year-old witch could easily pass off as a forty-year-old Muggle. The reason for all this was pure and simple – _Magic._

Magic was the fundamental building block of the universe itself. It existed in every living thing, and no organism or inanimate object could exist without magic. Plants, animals, humans, rocks, soil, water, air, the vacuum of space – they all had a magical component in them. Muggles had magic too, but the level of magic in their blood was so ridiculously low because of the mutated DNA that even non-magical animals had more magic in their blood than them. The soul itself was nothing but pure magic, which was why splitting it was considered the biggest act of evil and not even the worst of the worst dark wizards would attempt it – except Herpo the Foul and Voldemort. Even dark wizards believed in the sanctity of Mother Magic, which was why even if they pushed the boundaries, they never crossed it.

That was the reason Voldemort and Herpo the Foul had been physically disfigured so badly. They had crossed the line and their bodies reflected it.

Magic existed everywhere and its source was infinite, however, magical creatures like humans, elves and goblins couldn't completely harness the infinite power available to them. While magic existed in the air or soil, only a certain small quantity of it could be used or tapped.

The wards powering Potter Castle was the best example of this.

While the castle wards could absorb magic from the lay lines present underground, the ward stone could only harness a limited amount of magic. The ward stones itself came in various forms, with different input and output configurations on how much magic it can absorb and use. This was the limitation to magic in that nobody could tap into its unlimited natural reserves. It was always finite as far as witches and wizards were concerned. Using a lot of magic to power the wards meant dumping a huge about of gold in maintaining it. The ward stones at Potter Castle were very expensive, which was why the war wards were not always powered. The standard wards would be powered when the Potters did not occupy the castle, but if the situation demanded it, the full might of the wards could be raised, but it did not come cheap.

Hogwarts and Gringotts worked on a similar approach. The school had extensive ward stones powering wards, but maintaining them was not easy, nor was it inexpensive. The castle had built a reputation for the reason that despite it being a school, the wards were well maintained. This, along with the cost of boarding and teaching, led to an increase in the fees of incoming students, which not everyone could afford. Hogwarts had always been an elite school for the rich or talented, while the rest of the British magical population attended the other magical schools of the realm.

At Gringotts, since the bank's primary function was to protect the treasures of its clients, the ward stones for the high-security vaults, in particular, were constantly replaced because of the high amount of magic used to power them. It went without saying that maintaining such high-security vaults was very expensive.

As for Muggle-borns, the only way for a Muggle-born witch or wizard to be born is if they had a magical relative somewhere in their bloodline. The DNA, dormant in the parent, might activate in the child. The pureblood philosophy was somewhat accurate, actually. Marrying Muggles would give rise to weaker wizards or squibs (there were a few exceptions, of course) but they were wrong in that marrying Muggle-borns would do the same.

Muggle-borns were just the same as any pureblood wizard – there was no difference in blood or power, with the original human DNA of witches and wizards having fully activated in their blood. Just like physical strength differed from person to person, magical strength also differed. Some purebloods were naturally weaker as compared to others while some Muggle-borns like Lily Evans were naturally more powerful than the rest.

The pureblood fanatics did not hate Muggle-borns only because of their Muggle heritage; they hated them because they were a threat to all witches and wizards. Harry, for one, truly believed that unless something was done, the knowledge of magic could not be contained in fifty years. There was also the problem that Muggle-borns bring their Muggle culture into the magical world, and some of them expect witches and wizards to change or adapt to suit their Muggle heritage. Naturally, the purebloods had been furious, which was why Voldemort had risen to power as quickly as he had. That is also why the Death Eaters would not care if their master was half-blood himself. Voldemort supported their goals and was ridiculously powerful, and that was enough.

Entering the chamber, Harry flicked his wand to his hand, just as ancient lighting charms activated. He frowned when he saw that the room was empty. Just as he took another step, another pedestal appeared with a sheet of parchment on it. He sliced his palm again and let several drops of blood fall on the parchment. The parchment absorbed the blood and words began forming in what was clearly Parselscript, being displayed in Harry's blood.

 _Dear descendant,_

 _I am Salazar Slytherin, the last member alive of this once noble family. I am about to go confront my son, but before I do, I want to ensure that my true descendants would be able to access this place and know of their ancestor. If you're reading this, then Amarantha must have told you about the Chamber of Secrets. She assured me that once she and her family returned to Britain, she would tell her grandchildren about me securing the Slytherin fortune and titles here in my chamber at Hogwarts. I hope the time is right for you to reclaim what is your right by birth. But before you claim it, I would like you to know more about me._

 _I was orphaned when I was ten years old, my child. My family was murdered by a bunch of Muggles. I was devastated, as any child would be, but I also knew that I had to take care of myself. I didn't trust anyone on the Wizengamot to take care of me because there were many, even amongst the nobility, who were jealous of my family's wealth and knowledge and would have done everything possible to steal it from me, just as my father had always said. So I raised myself and grew up in the shadows, learning the most obscure forms of magic that interested me. I went abroad when I was old enough and learnt from various tribes who taught me more obscure rituals and magic. I have always been ambitious, and I wanted to achieve something great so that I would be remembered by many for centuries to come for my great achievements. That's when my life took an unexpected turn._

 _When I met Godric Gryffindor, he was in a bad shape. The man too had lost his family to those filthy Muggle barbarians and was doing his best to take care of his young daughter. We bonded over that and learnt different forms of magic from each other. Through Godric, I met Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff, two very gifted witches. Together, we created this school – Hogwarts._

 _I didn't marry anyone at that time, but I wanted a child of my own, so I blood adopted a young boy and gave him my own name – Salazar Slytherin. How I wish I knew that I was raising a boy who would be the cause of so much pain and misery! I showered him with love and affection but he grew up to be very arrogant and power-hungry, not to mention had an intense dislike for Godric and saw the rest of the students as beneath him. When Salazar was eighteen, he attacked a group of students, intending to molest them, and that's when I threw him out of the castle. We consider women to be sacred; the ones who are blessed by Mother Magic to be able to create life. The fact that he could even think of something so atrocious still makes my blood boil!_

 _Several years later, there was a young student. Her name was Evangeline Noma, and after she finished her studies, she apprenticed under me. Though she was more than thirty years younger than me, I couldn't help but fall in love with her as we had several things in common, including the fact that we both were orphans. She too loved me, but she said that society wouldn't accept our relationship, given our great age difference, not to mention the fact that I was her mentor. If such a relationship were known to the magical public, they would stop sending their children to Hogwarts, fearing for their safety. So we got married in secret and pretty soon, she found herself pregnant._

 _We were very happy about that, but we were also scared of being discovered. She hid her pregnancy, but nine months later, she died in childbirth. I was devastated and heartbroken, but when I saw the beautiful baby girl who was in my arms, I knew I couldn't let my wife down. I named our daughter Amarantha and she also seems to have inherited my green eyes and so have her children. It is a trait in my family that all Slytherin children have vivid, emerald green eyes._

 _If you're reading this, my child, it means that you've passed the blood ward that my daughter and I placed around this room. Please do not disturb the basilisk unless the castle is under attack. Give her specific orders, but try to leave her alone. Call her to battle against the Muggles only if all is lost, as innocent witches and wizards could die in the attack as well. But I do have to say that it is better to die by the stare of a basilisk rather than being mutilated by those filthy Muggles._

 _My daughter grew up at Hogwarts under the watchful eyes of those faithful house-elves. Rowena discovered that Amarantha was my daughter, but she agreed to remain quiet, although I'm sure Godric suspects it as well. Amarantha grew up to be a fine young woman and I couldn't be more proud of her. She met a young man in Greece and fell in love with him. I'm happy that my dear daughter has found love and happiness._

 _But now, I have to go confront my son. Thinking of killing him makes my heart ache, but I shall do it. He has killed many witches and wizards in his bid for power, and I cannot let that happen. Salazar seems to have a family of his own, having married the daughter of the House of Gaunt, but what can I do? He is terrorising people using my name, and I have to put a stop to it. Godric has volunteered to come with me, but I can manage on my own. I am confident I shall return to Hogwarts triumphant._

 _My dear child, please accept the signet ring and magic of the Slytherin family. It shall help you in your future endeavours as I'm sure you'll go on to do great things. My blessings are with you always._

 _May Mother Magic always stay by your side and watch over you._

 _Salazar Slytherin._

Harry closed his eyes and dropped down to one knee in respect for his ancestor. Lily Evans was born to the Slytherin line. While the magic manifested in her, giving her the emerald green eyes of the family, Petunia still remained a Muggle. Harry placed his hand on the parchment and poured some of his magic into it. Immediately, a green glow surrounded him, as though judging to see if he was worthy. After several seconds, the aura seeped into Harry's skin, just as a ring appeared on the middle finger of Harry's left hand. It had a silver band with a large emerald with the basilisk crest.

When he opened his eyes, the area around him seemed to be shimmering. There was a flash of light and Harry took a step back in shock. Just like how it had been in Godric's chamber, there were mountains of gold and other precious metals and gems. Harry was now probably the richest wizard in the world! He noticed something else too. While all of Godric's books had been given to his daughter a thousand years ago, there were many books here in the Chamber of Secrets that belonged to Salazar Slytherin. Most were in Latin, but there was nothing a translation spell couldn't fix. Some other old tomes were in Parselscript which contained information on Parselmagic.

Harry smiled. This place contained information Voldemort could never get his hands on! Calling for his house-elves, now having the power to do so, he asked them to transport all the gold and books to Potter Castle. He also asked them to render the basilisk for all useful parts and store them at the castle. Merlin knows those parts were extremely hard to come by, if at all.

After exploring the chamber for another three hours, he found an alternate exit that led him to a passageway on the fourth floor. Donning the Invisibility Cloak over himself, Harry returned to Ravenclaw Tower. It had been a very productive night.

He wondered how people would react when they realised that he was now the official Heir Apparent of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin. Dumbledore's reaction would be absolutely hilarious!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The month of September passed by without a problem. Harry had once again started his rapid routine of studying. He had finished the N.E.W.T. syllabus from Voldemort's memories and was now learning new forms of magic which the Dark Lord had learnt from around the world. It was certainly exciting on a monumental scale – there was a reason Harry was in Ravenclaw.

Harry had also told Sirius, Amelia, Daphne, Dylan and the Greengrasses about him being Lord Slytherin. Sirius had choked and looked at him with wide eyes. Harry would never forget Cyrus Greengrass actually dancing around the drawing room at his manor in joy when he found out that his daughter was the future Lady Slytherin. They had decided not to announce it so soon, but do it during the Yule holidays when Harry and Sirius planned on releasing Godric's journal to the public. Obscurus Books had already begun printing the books and they would go on sale in December. Sirius had decided that the winter session of the Wizengamot was the perfect time to announce it.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **In the Room of Requirement –**_

Daphne slashed her wand in the air as she twisted her body to avoid the incoming spell. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she glared at the smirking form of Harry Potter who was currently duelling with her. They had been at this for nearly three hours and she was utterly exhausted, but Harry wouldn't let her stop! Every time she opened her mouth to utter a spell – as he demanded non-verbal spells only – or if she was about to say that she was tired, Harry would fire lethal spells at her, forcing Daphne to fight back.

Damn her for asking Harry to train her in duelling! This was way beyond fourth-year syllabus!

But Daphne had to admit, Harry was an outstanding teacher. He may be very strict and frustrating, but his methods were infinitely more rewarding. Harry had started teaching her how to duel since her second year and after the escape of the Death Eaters from Azkaban, he had been teaching Dylan too. Daphne was grateful for that, however, it didn't discount the fact that he was too demanding of his students. She had struggled to master silent casting as Harry had refused to teach her without it. Harry repeatedly scoffed at uttering spells out loud, saying that it was a terrible weakness and thus, she and Dylan had been forced to learn the technique in advance.

Once they were adept at non-verbal casting, Harry began training them in how to fight. Daphne was amazed at Harry's technique when it came to duelling; he would curse the life out of his opponent one moment, switch to a combination of Transfiguration and Charms the next and also used a wide range of acrobatic moves to dodge spells which were thrown at him. Of course, the reason for this was twofold – one, Harry had been trained in martial arts since a very young age, so dodging spells came naturally to him, and two, Harry had a wealth of knowledge in his mind from Voldemort's memories which he was slowly learning from, combined with rigorous practice sessions with Amelia every week. Combined with his inherent magical power which was already high on the scale, he was quite a formidable duellist for his age.

"Not so fast, Greengrass," said Harry coldly as he saw her move further back so as to stop the fight. Slashing his wand as he moved closer, cornering her against the wall, firing spells at her which Daphne managed to shield and deflect. When Daphne's back touched the wall, with her wand on the floor as she was disarmed, he conjured a wooden sword and raised it above his head but before he could strike, a wandless shield prevented him from coming close to her neck.

"Nice," commented Harry, smirking slightly. "I thought I had you there."

"This is ridiculous!" cried Daphne, panting hard. "I know that you enjoy sword-fighting, but I certainly don't!"

"I did it because you were not expecting it," explained Harry. "I could have easily taken you out with a wand, but you would not have learnt anything. Aunt Amelia always says that in a fight, you must expect the unexpected. You have no idea what surprises she can bring up in a fight; I should know - I've been at the receiving end of it many times. Through pure will and desperation, you were able to conjure a wandless shield, something which you were not able to do before."

"Oh, I was desperate alright," muttered Daphne. Just as she picked up her wand, she saw a jet of scarlet light coming towards her. With a yelp, she dodged to the other side, only to see more spells being fired at her. Cursing Harry to the pits of hell, Daphne got up from the floor and danced around him, doing her best to dodge his spells. Her anger increased multifold as she saw the smirk on Harry's face. Couldn't the bloody emotionless nitwit give her even a minute to relax? Screaming in rage as the pain in her limbs became unbearable any longer due to the constant stress, she fired several curses at him.

" _Bombarda Maxima!"_

 _"Confringo!"_

 _"Expulso!"_

There was a loud explosion as Daphne collapsed on the ground, panting hard. Her eyes widened when she saw the destruction around the Room of Requirement. There was debris all around, with no sign of Harry.

"HARRY!"

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Daphne ran forwards, moving the debris with her bare hands, her wand forgotten on the floor. Just as she removed another conjured rock, she was caught off guard when she was thrown away from the pile of debris by a banishing charm.

"When I said to expect the unexpected, I meant it," said Harry impassively as he emerged from the debris without a scratch on himself. "You opponent, who you think is defeated, might only be playing you and would choose the best moment to attack when your guard is down. According to Sirius and Aunt Amelia, the Death Eaters during the last war used this to their advantage and even Alastor Moody was caught off guard. You – UFF!"

"You complete ARSE, Harry Potter!" screamed Daphne, as she pinned him to the ground. "Do you have any idea what a dirty trick that was? I thought I had killed you!"

"That was the point," said Harry, frowning slightly. He didn't get it. Why was Daphne worked up over this?

"That was the point?" hissed Daphne, her blue eyes flashing an eerie white for an instant as she glared at her fiancé. Cupping his face angrily, she said, "I have put up a lot with you over the past three years, but this time, you have crossed the line. You may be incapable of understanding the ramifications of what you just did, playing on my emotions like that, but don't you fucking dare do that to me again! I thought I had _killed_ you!"

Harry blinked in shock. He was genuinely confused. "What did I do wrong?" asked Harry curiously.

Daphne's heart melted at the innocent question. She sighed as she collapsed tiredly against him, her head on his chest as she breathed deeply.

"How would you feel if you thought you had killed me?" asked Daphne quietly. "I know that you can perform the Killing Curse. What if I had been present when you were practising it and you fired the curse at me accidentally?"

Harry paled slightly and his eyes widened in shock and understanding.

"That's how I felt when I saw the destruction around me after I fired so many blasting curses at you," she said. Looking up and seeing the shocked expression on Harry's face, she gently caressed his face, locking eyes with him. A tear rolled down her cheek and fell his face.

"You mean the world to me, Harry," whispered Daphne tenderly. "A few years ago, you were just the boy hero from the children's' stories my mother used to read to me when I was a child. You were the Boy-Who-Lived, but you are more than just an icon to me now. We have gone from being casual acquaintances to friends to best friends and finally to romantic partners. I deeply love you, Harry and I can't stand the thought of losing you. Please don't do something like this again. I won't be able to handle it."

"I'm sorry," whispered Harry, cupping her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "I didn't know, I swear."

Daphne smiled slightly as she leaned down to kiss him softly. Harry reciprocated, his kisses full of warmth and love he felt for her as wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

Harry and Daphne complemented each other, completed each other. Both of them were not perfect and would never be perfect, but they were perfect for each other, which in the end, was all that mattered.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Twenty minutes later, Harry and Daphne were having dinner in the kitchens. Just as they were finishing dessert, they saw five elves sitting in a corner, drunk. The other elves were giving them worried looks, and the Head Elf was looking at Harry strangely, wondering if he could solve their problems as Dumbledore was not at the castle for the moment.

"Trixie, is there a problem here?" asked Harry, bending down to one knee so as to be level with the elf.

The Head Elf nodded hesitantly. "There is a problem at Gryffindor Tower, Master Harry," she said softly. "The bushy haired Gryffindor is giving clothes to elves. Trixie be wanting to explain to her, but Trixie is scared of the bushy haired girl. She has set four elves free by tricking them to take clothes while we clean Gryffindor Tower."

Harry's eyes flashed with anger. Hermione Granger had been going on about house-elves and slavery over the past month, but no one had paid any attention to her. But to think she would do this!

"What about the fifth elf?" asked Daphne.

"That is Winky, Mistress Daphne," said Trixie. "She used to be the Crouch elf, but her master be giving her clothes. She is very sad and wants a real family."

"How is it that those elves were freed when Granger gave them clothes?" asked Daphne curiously. "Your bond is with the castle, and you report to Harry and the Headmaster."

"We serve the _students_ , Mistress Daphne," explained Trixie. "We be bonded to the castle which houses the students. When any student _intentionally_ gives clothes to free us, it be the same as a master giving us clothes."

Harry nodded in understanding as he stood up. He went over to the depressed elves and said, "Do you four want to bond with the castle again?"

"Yes, Master Harry!" said one of the elves desperately. Tears leaked from the elf's big eyes as he said, "The bushy hair be trying to kill us!"

"Calm down, Floppy!" said Harry. "I'll take you back. Winky, would you like to work here or do you want to work with a family?"

"Winky would want to work with family, Harry Potter sir," said the elf miserably.

"Well then, I have a master who would be delighted to have you," said Harry with a hint of a smile. "At Ravenclaw Tower, you'll find a second-year student named Dylan Lestrange. Go to him and explain what happened and tell him that I would like him to bond with you. Explain why it must be done and then go to Potter Castle. My elves will give you a job to do, okay?"

Winky's face brightened immediately. "Thank you, Harry Potter sir!"

With a pop, she was gone. Harry turned to the others. "I, Harry James Potter, Lord Gryffindor-Slytherin, do hereby take back these elves to serve the residents of Hogwarts School. I also give an order to all the Hogwarts house-elves that any clothes intentionally given to you by the staff or students will not affect you unless you wish to be set free."

There was a small magical discharge and the elves were suddenly feeling better as the bond from the castle helped them recover. They immediately hugged Harry's legs, making him smile.

"I'll take care of the Granger problem," said Harry as he and Daphne walked out of the kitchen.

"I can't believe her," said Harry, sounding annoyed.

"It is because of Muggle-borns like her that the rest of them suffer," muttered Daphne, as Harry made a noise of agreement.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: So, what do you think of my take on magical and non-magical humans? If you can observe, Magic somewhat similar to the Force which we see in Star Wars. Those who have watched Clone Wars would understand what I'm talking about - the Father, the Daughter and the Son. Just as the Force is sentient, Magic too is sentient. Please do let me know your thoughts on Rabastan too. Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	22. Harry vs Hermione

**_Chapter 22_**

 ** _Harry vs Hermione_**

Taking out the Marauder's Map, Harry checked for Hermione Granger and found her in the Gryffindor common room. Deactivating it, he took Daphne's hand and led them forward.

"How have the teachers allowed this?" asked Daphne quietly. "I was under the impression Muggle-borns have private sessions with their Heads of House so that they could adjust to the magical world better?"

"Professor McGonagall probably doesn't even know what Granger is doing," muttered Harry. "She's the most overworked member of staff at Hogwarts. Besides, just because Granger has been informed of the culture and traditions of the magical world doesn't mean she has to respect them, does it? Haven't you listened to her go on about how wizards don't have logic?"

Daphne hummed. "I doubt there is a single person in the castle who hasn't. I don't get it. What could possibly make her say something like that?"

Harry smiled grimly as he said, "Only those who have lived in both the Muggle world and magical world will realise that Muggle logic is quite different from wizard logic, a fact which Granger, unfortunately, fails to understand."

When they reached the tapestry of the Fat Lady, they stopped.

"My Lord, my Lady, how may I serve you?" asked the Fat Lady as she curtseyed for them.

"We would like to enter the tower please," said Harry impassively.

"Of course, my Lord," she said as it swung open, revealing the portrait hole. They entered together, but Daphne stayed behind, leaning against the wall as she watched her fiancé do the work.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" asked Ron Weasley, frowning. "How do you know our password?"

"I don't need a password to enter Gryffindor Tower, Weasley," said Harry calmly as he walked forward. "I get automatic entrance. Where's Hermione Granger?"

"What?" said Hermione, looking up from her needlework. In front of her were several woollen hats and socks.

"Granger, I need to talk to you, privately," said Harry, coming to a halt several feet away from her.

"Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of us all," said Ron, sounding annoyed. Hermione looked at Harry curiously, wondering what this was all about.

"Very well," said Harry dispassionately. He flicked his wand and said, " _Accio house-elf clothes_!"

Hermione flushed in outrage as dozens of hats and socks flew to him from different corners of Gryffindor Tower.

"What may I ask is this?"

"I don't answer to you!" snapped Hermione angrily. "You're not a prefect or a teacher."

"Yes, but I am an older student. I'm asking you again, what is this?"

"You already seem to know," said Hermione angrily. "It's the clothes I made for house-elves."

"To set them free?" asked Harry, his face not displaying a hint of emotion at all.

"Yes," said Hermione, sounding superior as she held her head high. "I'm doing them all a service. I can't believe witches and wizards condone slavery! The house-elves should be set free and that's what I'm going to do!"

Neville opened his mouth to reply furiously when Harry raised his hand, shaking his head at him. "And what if I told you that it won't work anymore?" he asked, with eyebrows raised. "What if I told you that I have re-bonded the house-elves you set free and that I have ensured that none of the clothes you trick them into taking will have any meaning to them anymore?"

"How dare you!" she shouted angrily, standing up to face him. "How dare you condone _slavery?_ That's barbaric! I'm surprised that no one has tried to stop it yet; it just shows how backward your thinking is. House-elves need to be free; they need wages and sick leave and better working conditions. I can't believe the Ministry of Magic condones this! Making them your slave is monstrous! Why, in the Muggle world –"

"Oh, don't act all mighty Granger," snapped Harry, his eyes darkening slightly. "I understand that you want the best for them and I appreciate that, but your actions say different. Tell me, have you actually met a house-elf before?"

"Of course I have," said Hermione loftily. "I saw you summon that elf a year ago when you showed those memories to the school."

"That's not what I meant," said Harry quietly. "Have you personally spoken to them? Have you asked them if they're happy? Have you asked them why they need to bond with witches and wizards? Professor McGonagall must have told you, if you had cared to ask her, that the bond between a wizard and house-elf goes back for millennia. Have you ever tried to understand why that is so?"

"They're obviously brainwashed by –" began Hermione, but she was cut off.

"So, you came to your own conclusion did you?" asked Harry in a deadly voice. "That's the problem with you, Granger. You read what is given in one book, not verify it with others, not listen to others who try to correct you, not look at the real-life scenario, and jump to conclusions! That's what you have done with regard to house-elves."

"Let me enlighten you," he continued, as the entire Gryffindor House listened in rapt attention. "House-elves have always existed in our world, but they are not the only form of elves. There are Wood Elves which exist in the forests all over the world, but they are very, very rarely seen as they prefer to remain isolated due to the danger of them being hunted down. High Elves exist who are considered by many as one of the oldest sentient magic species, but they too prefer an isolated environment and haven't been spotted for hundreds if not thousands of years. Just as all of us serve a purpose and function for the society at large, house-elves are a species meant to serve. That is their function, as I'm sure it was explained to you numerous times! If you rob them of their ability to do their job, then they lose the will to live as they have nothing else to live for!"

"Slavery –" began Hermione, but was again cut off.

"The bond between a house-elf and a witch or wizard has existed for tens of thousands of years. That is the way for them to survive. Without the bond, their existence has no meaning; they were born to serve. Unlike in your precious Muggle world where humans enslave other humans, we don't do that. Because Mother Magic herself has created a species who serve us to help better ourselves so that we can improve our society. Every society needs others who cook, clean, do the housework, and take care of the children. In the Muggle world, it is done by other humans, while in the magical world it is done by house-elves. You can't expect them to accept wages because they have no use for it. What do you think they would do, go to a party? Watch a movie? Their inherent magic itself provides them with whatever they need, and coupled with the magic they get from witches and wizards ensures that they are self-sufficient. They use the magic received from the bond to reproduce, and you trying to free them shows that there is someone out there who wants to kill them all! Please, don't try to bring in your vaunted Muggle ideas into the magical world where it is neither wanted nor necessary," said Harry quietly, but firmly.

"But of course you need Muggle ideas!" screeched Hermione furiously. "The wizarding world is still stuck in the dark ages with backward and outdated traditions and only by adapting to the Muggle world can bring them out of stagnation! There isn't even the concept of divorce in the magical world, while it exists in the Muggle world. There is so much more ... Polygamy, the Ancient and Noble House system ... Only if we remove such barbaric laws and traditions could the magical world ever hope to be as advanced as the Muggle world."

This comment brought outrage from many of them sitting in the common room. Nobody missed the part of Granger called them all barbaric, and many of the purebloods couldn't believe that she would think that the Muggle world could even compete with the magical world in any way.

"Let me tell you something Granger," sneered Harry. "Don't compare the Muggle world to the magical world, and don't you _dare_ question our traditions and beliefs and impose your beliefs on us just because you consider them beneath you. We don't want that. You think the Muggle world is superior, isn't it? Please, enlighten us. Just what do Muggles have that we don't? You mentioned divorce, right? Well, let's test that. Hey, Fred, George, do you know what divorce is?" he asked the Weasley twins sitting there.

"Ahem, no idea, Harry," said George confused. "What is that? Is it some kind of cure for a disease?"

"Aha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See? They don't even know what it is. This proves that –"

"– divorce doesn't exist in the magical world," finished Harry calmly. "Do you know why, Granger? It's because unlike Muggle marriages, in the case of witches and wizards, the husband and wife are bonded for life. To those who don't know, divorce is a Muggle term that describes a situation where a husband and wife split after marriage and go their separate ways. You see, Granger? They're disgusted to even hear of such a thing. That's because when two people are married through blessings of Magic, it creates a sacred bond between them. They don't cheat on each other; they don't feel the need to divorce the other. Whatever we do, we have a reason. There's a similar bond between parents and their children as well. As for Polygamy, if you're interested to know, has not been seen in our world for a hundred years. It exists only in law, in case the heads of families decide to marry another to continue their line or in case people marry for love."

"The Ancient and Noble House system is archaic," said Hermione stubbornly. "It shows the magical world isn't democratic like the Muggle world. This clearly discriminates Muggle-borns as they don't have access to such influence as the Ancient Houses. We Muggle-borns face so much prosecution and we don't get high position jobs!"

"Oh, give me a break!" said Harry through gritted teeth. "Just what is it with you wanting to bring more of the Muggle world into everything? Get your facts straight Granger. Elected representatives and Magical governments have existed for much longer when Muggles were still struggling with corrupt monarchy. The Ancient Houses exist for a reason. The Most Ancient Houses are those families who were appointed by King Arthur to take care of the welfare of the British magical community nearly fifteen hundred years ago. Since King Arthur was the last magical king, we had to govern ourselves. Newer families were introduced, creating the Ancient and Noble Houses and a few centuries later, the Noble Houses. They were the ones who founded the magical governments and enacted all those laws in the first place; they were the ones to introduce the concept of elected representatives and thus, for all the work they have done, they have hereditary seats. This system of governance exists not only in Magical Britain but all over the world. Everything is regulated by the International Confederation of Wizards!"

"In our Ministry of Magic, the Wizengamot is comprised of Ancient and Noble Houses, Ministry department heads, those who are young and elderly alike, holders of Orders of Merlin and the remaining nearly half of them are elected by the people! Even being the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House isn't easy. While no one can deny us the seat, just because we were born in the family doesn't give us the right to sit there. We are evaluated by a panel of Wizengamot members who test our knowledge about magical law and if we're worthy to sit there for legislative and judicial sessions. I'm not saying those in the nobility aren't privileged, but if the society had equal standing for all its citizens, then there would be no chaos at all; unfortunately, such a society is but a distant dream."

"You mentioned Muggle-borns and their rights," said Harry, cutting off Granger who wanted to speak. "Do you realise that you're talking to the son of a Muggle-born? I'm a half-blood myself. Who told you that Muggle-borns don't get top jobs? I can give you the names of five elected members of the Wizengamot who are Muggle-borns. My mother was an Unspeakable when she was alive, and she was a Muggle-born. Dirk Cresswell, the newest Head of the Goblin Liaison Office is a Muggle-born. Twenty-five per cent of the Ministry workers are Muggle-borns. Are you saying that they aren't successful?"

"Why, have you heard of Miller's Magic Mirrors? Of course, you have. The proprietor is Serena Miller, a Muggle-born! She was named the Businesswoman of the Year in the International Magical Business Magazine and has received several awards globally and was also awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, by our Ministry of Magic. So, tell me, in which sense are we _barbaric_?" he sneered at the last word. "Atlantis was a thriving magical city thousands of years ago while the Muggle world was still developing rudimentary huts. Stop judging the magical world by your knowledge of the Muggle world! They're completely different! We believe the laws of Mother Magic should –"

" _Mother_ Magic?" snickered Hermione triumphantly, as if her theory of wizards not having an ounce of logic was validated. "Now that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Magic is just a tool which can be used –"

" _SHUT UP_!" hissed Harry furiously in Parseltongue, losing control for the first time while other purebloods too shouted in outrage. " _This_ is what we don't like! You were introduced to the magical world just three years ago, and you're already spitting on our traditions and beliefs which have existed for _thousands and thousands_ of years! For Merlin's sake Granger, stop trying to convert the magical world to your so-called advanced Muggle standards! _We don't want it_! I'm not saying that we are perfect; yes, there is widespread corruption; yes, there is stagnation, yes, there are dangerous Dark Lords in the society, and yes, Muggle-borns do face scorn, but _this_ is the reason for it! You enter into our world, spit on our beliefs and try to change who we are! And no one likes that!"

"You are still thinking like a Muggle, which is why you can't see it from our point of view," spat Harry accusingly. "You say that _we_ have slaves. Have you forgotten, Granger, that _you_ had human slaves until fifty years ago? Didn't different Muggle countries colonise different parts of the world and subjugate the natives or even _eliminate_ them? Where were your morals then, Granger? You keep spitting on us while saying that the Muggle world is advanced. Let me tell you that until about a hundred or hundred and fifty years ago, the Muggles had nothing! It was only because of the two World Wars that made you start developing all sorts of technology. Do you think what you have done is _advanced_?"

"Fifty years of development will not equal the development that was present in the magical world five thousand years ago! Go to the library and read more books on magical history and you'll soon come to the same conclusion. It is because of people like _you_ that the rest of the Muggle-borns face scorn even if they adjust to our society. Do you want to complain about discrimination? Of course, there would be discrimination if you act like this!"

"Do you think the Japanese would treat you well if you go to Japan and start spitting on their traditions and culture? The same applies here. You are essentially entering a new country. Just because we also go by the name of Britain and Ireland does not mean it is the same. There is a reason we are called citizens of _Magical_ Britain and Ireland; this is _Avalon_ , not the United Kingdom! We are a separate country and thus not answerable to anyone in the Muggle government, just like every other magical country in the world. We are not asking you to follow our traditions, Granger, but you have to learn to respect them since you are now a citizen of _Avalon_!"

Taking a deep breath, Harry centred himself, trying to control his emotions. After a minute, his impassive mask was back in place, but his eyes were still a shade of blackish-green. He saw that Hermione was still glaring at him and that no one in the common room was speaking a word. Supremely unconcerned, Harry turned around, with Daphne taking his hand in hers comfortingly and the two of them walked out of the tower.

Pandemonium ensued as nearly everyone in the common room was shooting filthy looks at one Hermione Granger.

 _Backward ... barbaric ... archaic ... magic is just a tool to be used..._

Those words echoed in the minds of every witch and wizard present in Gryffindor Tower.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"You okay?" whispered Dylan as they stood outside the castle on the thirtieth of October, waiting for the delegations of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive.

"I'm fine," said Harry quietly, but he didn't mention that he had been training like a madman over the past month. The meeting with Hermione Granger had shaken him to the core. She was arrogant and bigoted, not to mention self-righteous. He would readily agree that he did not think highly of Muggles, but he was not a citizen of Muggle Britain and had not entered the Muggle world since the age of seven. Hermione Granger, on the other hand, was a citizen of Magical Britain and for her to speak like that brought warning bells to Harry. There was no telling what she might do if she thought she was doing the right thing without realising the consequences of her actions. She was dangerous but no one else would agree with him.

Harry involuntary shivered when he thought about the scenario of Muggles knowing the existence of magic. It would be the end of the world because Muggles would never accept magic in their lives. That was the reason the International Statute of Secrecy was imposed in the first place and why it was so strictly enforced. He remembered reading about some of the Muggle-loving wizards wanting to help during the First World War. If another war breaks out in the Muggle world, it was people like Hermione Granger who posed a danger to the society. She would simply act, wanting to protect those Muggles from destroying themselves, using magic in the process. If magic was exposed to them, they would destroy witches and wizards along with each other. He was not speculating; history over millennia provided them with infinite evidence – history which Muggles did not have access to.

He only hoped such a situation never occurs in the future. The magical world had enough problems without the Muggles being one of them.

The confrontation with Hermione Granger had spread throughout the school like Fiendfyre. Harry actually expected a massive backlash, but there wasn't one – towards him, at least; not that much, anyway. Harry was right; _no one_ wanted to give up their traditions and beliefs even if they were pro-Muggle. The Gryffindors had not forgotten the words Granger had used to describe them – backward, barbaric, archaic, and word had quickly spread throughout the school.

Even some of the teachers had grown cold towards her and Snape was actually being nastier than ever, docking points from Gryffindor every chance he could get. Draco Malfoy had loudly started talking about 'Mudbloods' until Harry had dressed him down verbally and transfigured him into an albino ferret in the middle of the Great Hall for insulting all Muggle-borns. He had gotten detention for it, not to mention had to endure Professor McGonagall loudly berating him for using Transfiguration on another student, but it had been worth it. Harry was a half-blood himself and he wouldn't take such insults to the general Muggle-born population lying down. Blind bigotry of the Death Eaters was something he did not agree with.

"So, any information on who's going to enter the tournament?" asked Harry.

"The Hufflepuffs are all talking about Cedric Diggory," replied Dylan. "The Ravenclaws don't have a strong candidate and even though you are a seventh-year student, I doubt you can enter because of what you said about the tournament's magical contract. The Gryffindors also don't have anyone strong and neither do the Slytherins."

"Diggory?" asked Harry, frowning slightly. "Yeah, I shared classes with him for two terms. He's a smart bloke, from what I remember. Maybe he'll do a good job, who knows? He could surprise us."

"What did Dumbledore want with you?"

"Oh, the usual," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "He heard about my confrontation with Granger and decided to instil the virtues of Muggles. He said that they are a fascinating race and that we must learn to be more like them. He also said that I should learn to forgive and forget."

Dylan cringed. "I bet you didn't take that rather well," he said.

Harry snorted. "You think? I told him to bugger off and walked out of his office. I have an aversion to dragon dung and Dumbledore produces it in bulk. He accused me of going dark and I was quite curious as to why he ever thought I was a so-called light wizard."

Dylan burst out laughing. Soon, the delegations of the two schools arrived and they were led inside the castle. Harry sat down next to Dylan as he listened to Dumbledore's speech, even though his mind was drifting. Schooling his features, his face was back to its expressionless self as the food appeared.

"Is that French food?" asked Dylan curiously.

"Yes," said Harry. "You might want to try it; I certainly enjoyed it during my trip to France two years ago."

The Great Hall looked a lot more crowded than usual, which it was. There were about two hundred students from the two foreign schools put together and they were sitting at all four House tables. Unknown to Harry, several of the new female students were staring at him unashamedly. While Harry wasn't vain, there was no denying the fact that he was the best-looking male at Hogwarts. When his gaze drifted to the Slytherin table, his eye twitched in annoyance as he observed several of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang boys eyeing Daphne, a few brave ones actually flirting with her.

Daphne felt someone staring at her. She smirked as she saw Harry looking at her, his anger –and dare she say it, jealousy – barely concealed to her. Wanting to nip things in the bud before Harry actually killed someone – she had no doubt he was capable of doing it and was already considering it – she winked at him and subtly blew him a kiss. She snorted in amusement when she saw the pleased look on Harry's face as he went back to his dinner. Sitting beside him, Dylan was covering his mouth with his hands, laughing his arse off.

"Shut up, Dylan," muttered Harry, cuffing the boy on the head.

At that moment, a musical voice said, "Excuse me, but may I take the bouillabaisse?"

"Of course," said Harry, not reacting to the silvery blonde haired beauty in front of him. As far as he was concerned, the dark blonde haired beauty sitting at the Slytherin table was more beautiful than any Veela in the world and nothing or no one would change that.

Of course, it wouldn't hurt to look ...

"You have finished with it?" asked as the beautiful girl, smiling flirtatiously at him, wondering if the handsome boy in front of her was resistant to her allure. She noticed that his emerald green eyes did soften, so maybe he wasn't completely impervious to it.

"It's not my favourite dish, so you can have it," said Harry with a small smile. "But the Crème Brulee has my name written on it, sorry."

"Oh, that's quite alright," she said smiling widely. Extending her hand, she said, "I'm Fleur Delacour."

"Charmed, Ms Delacour," said Harry, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles. "I'm Harry Potter and this is my brother Dylan Lestrange."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," said Fleur happily. "I have to get back to my friends. I hope to see you later."

"Of course," said Harry, turning back to his food.

"You are in so much trouble," muttered Dylan.

"Why do you say that?"

"Daphne."

Harry subtly cast a glance at his fiancée. Even though her face was not showing it, her deep blue eyes were glaring daggers at Fleur Delacour. Smirking slightly, he too blew her a kiss, making Daphne smile back at him slightly, though it looked somewhat forced.

Many boys in the Great Hall were gaping at what had just happened. Ron Weasley's eyes were glazed slightly as he glared hatefully at Harry. Just as the desserts were cleared, Harry saw Sirius enter the Hall along with Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman.

"What is Uncle Sirius doing here?" asked Dylan curiously.

"He's the Minister of Magic of the host country," Harry shrugged. "It's expected that he be here. Dumbledore is actually not only the Headmaster of the host school, but also the Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W. He is representing the Confederation because they were the ones who organised the event."

"Before we begin," said Dumbledore standing up, "let me introduce you to our new arrivals. First, we have Mr Bartemius Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of the Magical Games and Sports. We also have with us today Lord Sirius Black, the Minister of Magic of Magical Britain and Ireland."

Thunderous applause greeted Sirius as he stood up, smiling at them. "Madam Maxime, Professor Karkaroff and I will be judging the three tasks along with two other randomly chosen representatives of the International Confederation," said Dumbledore. "We will be judging the champions' efforts in participating in the tasks."

Dumbledore then tapped his wand at a casket, making the wood around it melt, revealing a large, handsome goblet. The brim of the goblet was full of dancing blue flames.

"Anyone who wishes to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly on a sheet of parchment and drop it in the Goblet of Fire," explained Dumbledore. "To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."

After the feast was done, Dumbledore dismissed them and everyone headed to their respective dormitories. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students returned to their carriage and ship too. Nobody could stop talking about the tournament and champions.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The next day, once Harry finished his morning run and shower, he made his way to the Great Hall, only for Dylan to grab his arm and drag him over to the Slytherin table.

"Let me guess," said Harry wryly. "You got a mirror call from Daphne last night and you are under orders to ensure that no girl flirts with me? She's turned you into her minion!"

"Any news on who entered their names yet?" asked Dylan, looking around at the group, ignoring his brother.

"Not yet, though a few of the seventh year Slytherins did it early this morning," said Theo as he helped himself to breakfast.

"Makes sense," said Blaise as he sat down. "You wouldn't want an audience when it happens. Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor put her name in and the Hufflepuffs are chanting Diggory's name as though he is Merlin himself," he finished in disgust.

"Did you find anything?" asked Daphne quietly.

"Her name is Fleur Delacour," said Astoria, ignoring the boys as she spoke to her sister softly. "Daughter of Jean-Luc Delacour, the Head of the Department of International Relations of the French Ministry of Magic. He's married to a Veela, I'm told, which explains her allure."

"That's very rare," observed Daphne. "Veela, male or female, don't usually intermarry with witches and wizards, choosing to keep themselves separate."

Astoria shrugged. "She's the top student of her year at Beauxbatons, so she might be a champion. She is adored by the boys for obvious reasons, but the girls, not so much, though she does have several friends."

"Interesting," muttered Daphne.

Once they finished breakfast, Dylan and Astoria went off to the library but Harry dragged Daphne to the Room of Requirement. Once inside, he pinned her to the wall and kissed her lovingly and passionately.

"You know that I love you more than anyone in the world, right?" he breathed, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Of course I know that," said Daphne softly, not meeting his eyes. "And you should know that I love you too, but –"

"Then, in that case, please trust me when I say that you are my one and only," said Harry as he tilted her chin up, locking eyes with her. "No one can compare to you, Daphne."

"She clearly has her sights on you. Not just Delacour, but several other girls as well. They're all waiting in line to get to you. Is it wrong of me to be scared of losing you to them? How do I compete with her?"

"Daphne, why do you think this is a competition? Even if it were, you've already won. You managed to capture my heart and make me fall irrevocably in love with you. So what is she has Veela blood in her? It's her nature! We can't blame her for that. Even so, why would I be attracted to them when I have you, someone who is more beautiful than all the Veela in the world combined?"

Daphne looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. The warmth displayed in Harry's eyes made her heart beat faster. Wrapping her arms around him, she melted into the hug, her head under his chin as she listened to his heartbeat.

"I can't begin to describe how much I love you," she said softly. "That's why I'm scared."

Harry closed his eyes as he placed a kiss on the top of her head as they stayed there together, enjoying the silence and comfort the other offered.

"I love you too. Never forget that."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

People were quite nervous that night, going by the fact that they didn't even take second helpings of dessert. Once the golden plates and cutlery were cleared, Dumbledore stood up and there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise as people began whispering excitedly. Minister Black was present, along with the Triwizard Committee of the I.C.W., Mr Crouch, Mr Bagman, Madam Maxime and Professor Karkaroff. There was also the staff of Hogwarts and the teachers of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang who had come with the students. The media was also present. One reporter from each major magical publication was allowed, so that had a half a dozen reporters from Britain and abroad being present. The reporter of the _Magical Daily_ had the recording crystal suspended in mid-air so that witches and wizards could watch the live telecast.

The flames in the goblet turned red suddenly. Sparks began to fly and a tongue of flame rushed out of the goblet, spitting out a piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught the parchment and said, "The champion for Durmstrang is Victor Krum!"

Thunderous applause greeted this declaration as the International Quidditch star stood up and walked to the chamber off the Great Hall. The goblet released another tongue of flame along with a parchment.

"The champion of Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour," shouted Dumbledore.

The applause was not as great as Victor's but it was still deafening. The anticipation in the hall was palpable when the third slip of parchment flew out. "The Hogwarts champion is," said Dumbledore, "Cedric Diggory!"

All the students at the Hufflepuff table stood up in celebration as Cedric went to the Headmaster, grinning widely.

Harry's eyes twinkled in amusement. The other three Houses were clapping loudly too, but he could see some of the Gryffindors and Slytherins look aghast. He was actually pleased with the outcome. Hufflepuff rarely got a chance to shine and this was their moment. Amelia Black was another exemplary Hufflepuff, so there could be a chance that Cedric might shine in –

"Harry Potter."

Harry's head snapped up, blinking in confusion. In the midst of the celebration, he had not listened to Dumbledore's speech being interrupted or the Goblet of Fire turning red for the fourth time, spitting out another piece of parchment.

"HARRY POTTER!" shouted Dumbledore, holding the slip in his hand.

Sirius looked half-scared and half-outraged. People all over began looking at him and whispering. Harry himself had a look of utter shock on his otherwise impassive face.

"Harry, you need to go," urged Dylan.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked Harry, his eyes narrowing.

"You'll never find out if you stay here. Go on!"

Harry slowly got up, his eyes darkening, glowing a shade of blackish-green, his fear and fury making it difficult to think. He heard someone shout 'cheat' but did not care. He stared at Dumbledore, promising eternal pain if he did not explain himself. Dumbledore, for that matter, had a look of shock on his face himself.

"Go on in, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly, giving him the slip of parchment.

Harry took it and checked the handwriting. There was no doubt about it. His name was written in his distinctively neat cursive writing. Clenching his fists, he left the Great Hall, the sound of his long strides echoing off the walls.


	23. The Fourth Champion

**_Chapter 23_**

 ** _The Fourth Champion_**

"Harry, what are you doing here?" asked Cedric in confusion as the younger boy entered the room. "Do they want us to return to the Great Hall?"

Harry didn't answer. His eyes were burning with fury at being tricked into the tournament and magic was leaking off of him in waves, the aura palpable. How had someone managed to enter his name into something as ancient as the Goblet of Fire? His mind was working at a furious pace, thinking about any spell that could achieve this. Looking out of the window, he wondered who would want him here and why. He mused that the reason why was obvious. Harry did have a lot of enemies and this was an outstanding way to get rid of him. He didn't know what the other two tasks were, but the dragon would surely have a field day with him. What a great assassination attempt! Whoever did this didn't even need to lift their wand!

But did he have to compete?

 _Yes,_ he had felt the twitch in his magic after his name had been called, signifying that he was under a very powerful magical contract. Harry paled slightly. The magical contract for the tournament was meant for of age witches and wizards, which meant that should he compete, he would be breaking the terms of the contract. At the same time, should he not compete, he would be again breaking the terms of the contract. Who was the idiot that decided to bring binding magical contracts into this? But one thing was certain – unless he figured out a way, he'd lose his magic and if that happened, it wouldn't be long before he died. He could _not_ let that happen. What to do? He snapped out of his musings when he heard raised voices, but he didn't turn towards them.

"– we were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here, his arrogance clearly —"

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly. He turned towards the boy who still had his back turned towards them all. Before anyone could say anything more, the door to the room burst open and a furious looking Sirius Black, the Minister of Magic strode through.

"I think I need to hear an explanation for this," he said calmly, but his face was still filled with fury.

"You can ask that reprobate of that godson of yours," said Snape snidely, sneering at Sirius. "Clearly he thinks the rules don't apply to him as always. Arrogant brat, just like his father -"

"Not one more word, Snape, or you and I will be clashing wands," said Sirius dangerously. "Harry is not responsible for this and I want to know how someone hoodwinked the Goblet of Fire!"

"And where is the evidence to support that claim?" snapped Madam Maxime, throwing her huge hands in the air. "He's obviously lying if he says he didn't put it in himself!"

"I don't lie, Madam Maxime," said Harry sharply, turning around and fixing a cold look at her. "Would you believe me if I told you that it was not me who put my name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"How else would the goblet have chosen you?" asked Madam Maxime, obviously not believing him.

"It is disgraceful," Karkaroff said loftily, his eyes displaying the glee he felt, "that the godson of the British Minister of Magic and the Boy-Who-Lived himself thought it was fine to cheat his way into the tournament. Deplorable behaviour –"

"I don't need a Death Eater to tell my son what is deplorable, Karkaroff," Sirius retorted darkly. "Watch your tongue."

"How dare you?" shouted Karkaroff. "I am –"

"Do you recall the battle of Bristol? I seem to remember James and I defeating you once before. I may not have my best friend with me anymore, but I assure you, his son is more than up to the task of taking his place. Know who you are talking to, Karkaroff."

Karkaroff glared at Sirius but gulped nevertheless when he saw the mad glint in those haunted grey eyes, reminding him of another member of the Minister's infamous family – his notorious cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Sirius, that does not answer how Harry's name came out of the Goblet in the first place," said Dumbledore quietly.

"He must have put it in himself!" cried Madam Maxime. "Really, what nonsense is this? This is the Triwizard Tournament! The glory, the prize money – it is a chance people would die for!"

"Maybe that is exactly what it is about; someone hoping Harry would die for it," Remus Lupin added quietly. "It is a binding magical contract; has anyone forgotten that?"

"Remus is right," said Sirius, frustration clear on his face. "It is magically binding with no way out. And please, Madam Maxime. What glory do you speak of? We are talking about Harry Potter, the name which every witch or wizard knows of all over the world. And prize money? He's the scion of one of the richest families in our world. I'm pretty sure he has more than twenty-five thousand Galleons in his pocket right now! If he says that he did not put his name in, it means that it wasn't him! Harry may be talented, but I honestly do not doubt Dumbledore's skill in drawing an Age Line!"

"You are all forgetting a very important detail," said Harry quietly.

"What is that, Harry?" asked Remus curiously.

"I am fourteen years old. I may be a seventh-year student, but I am still fourteen years old."

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Ludo Bagman, looking confused.

"Oh, Mother Magic, have mercy!" moaned Sirius, covering his face with his hands. "The contract is for only those witches and wizards who are of age. Harry is fourteen, not seventeen."

"The second I step into that arena for the first task, I would be in violation of the contract," Harry explained, turning his back on them all again as he stared into the black emptiness outside the window. "And if I don't participate, I would violate the contract. I am a dead man walking, bound by the contract of the Goblet of Fire. I felt my magic register it."

There was complete silence. The black eyes belonging to Severus Snape were smug with triumph, but no one noticed it. Barty Crouch Senior was looking at Harry speculatively.

"I don't think so, Mr Potter," said Mr Crouch sharply. "There is a way you can escape from that clause."

"What do you mean?" Sirius demanded, though he couldn't stop himself from glaring at the man who took away ten years of his life.

"He said so himself, Minister," Crouch replied. "Mr Potter is fourteen. What we need is for him to be of age. He would still be a party to the contract so there is no way out of the tournament, but there is a way in which he will not have to forfeit his magic and as an extension his life on the day of the first task."

"How is that?" asked Remus curiously.

"Emancipation. If he is magically and legally emancipated, the contract authorised by the Goblet of Fire would recognise him as an adult."

Sirius' head snapped up and everyone looked at Harry. The fourteen-year-old boy's face was impassive but his eyes showed that he comprehended what Crouch had said.

"I need to speak to my lawyers," said Sirius quietly. "We'll know if it works only after we consult experts. If that theory is wrong ..."

"There is still the issue of how Potter's name got into the goblet," said Professor McGonagall.

"This is most definitely my handwriting," Harry told them, looking at the slip in his hand. "There is no denying that it was written by me. A fake slip of parchment couldn't have been used from what Professor Dumbledore explained to us yesterday. It was probably taken from the school or Ministry archives or even homework assignments."

"A Confundus Charm would have worked," Dumbledore mused. "Though the person who charmed it must have been skilled enough to hoodwink the Goblet of Fire and Harry was probably entered under a fourth school. I'll check the goblet for any signs of tampering, but there is no question about it – both Harry and Cedric will have to compete."

Madam Maxime, Karkaroff and Snape all looked furious. The three original champions were quiet, watching the confrontation with wide eyes. The reality of the danger posed by the tournament was visible before their very eyes, and the tasks hadn't even started yet!

"Barty, the instructions?" Ludo Bagman spoke up. He did not seem all that affected by what had transpired here. In fact, he seemed overjoyed that Harry was participating.

"Ah yes, the First Task," said Barty Crouch, impeccable as always. "The First Task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard."

"The First Task will take place on November the twenty-first, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed _only_ with their wands. They will receive information about the Second Task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from the end-of-year exams and those held during the year."

"But I'll be taking my N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year," said Harry worriedly, looking at Sirius.

"We can deal with that once we solve this problem of you not being an adult," said Sirius quietly. Harry nodded. "That is all, I presume?"

"Yes, Minister," said Barty curtly.

"Good. Harry," said Sirius, jerking his head towards the exit. Not looking at anyone, Harry walked gracefully towards the door, his godfather's arm around his shoulder. He was followed by Karkaroff leading his student and Madam Maxime leaving with Fleur.

"Well, this night certainly was not what I had in mind," said Remus wryly.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes lacking the customary twinkle. The signs were present. He should have seen this coming. Severus had warned him that the Dark Mark was growing stronger, which meant one thing.

Voldemort was making a return, but what was the reason behind Harry's forced entry into the tournament?

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry climbed up the steps to the Astronomy Tower. Sirius had just left Hogwarts. It was quite late, so they couldn't meet with their solicitors at this time. Tomorrow morning they would know what was to be done. Reaching the top of the stairs, he walked to the edge; it was a long way down. Putting his legs over the railing, he looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. It was raining heavily now, the raindrops falling on his body, soaking him. Taking a deep breath, Harry jumped.

He was falling fast, the ground was getting closer and the air was rushing to his face. When he was about ten feet from the ground, he twisted in mid-air. The large golden eagle didn't even scrape the ground as it ascended to the clouds. Flapping its wings, the eagle glided through the air, rain lashing against its powerful wings. An hour later, the eagle landed in the Astronomy Tower and transformed back into Harry Potter.

Harry sighed in relief as the warming and drying charms activated on his clothes. Flying always calmed him down. Turning around, he saw a blur and was attacked by two figures. He grunted on impact but hugged them back.

"How did you two find me?" asked Harry, confused.

"Map," muttered Dylan. "It was in your trunk."

"Ah."

"Harry, what happened tonight?" asked Daphne, looking worried.

"I don't know," Harry exhaled. He collapsed against a wall as he explained the situation to them. Both of them looked pale.

Daphne was soon pacing as she tried to think things through while Dylan argued with Harry. "But it is possible, right?" he asked earnestly. "If you are emancipated, the contract should recognise you as an adult."

"This is a _magical_ contract, Dylan," explained Harry. "It is not just a piece of paper on which one signs like how Muggles do. If there is ever a situation like this where the contract itself contradicts itself, the will of magic would come into effect. This is a separate field of study under Magical Law. I will be speaking to experts on this matter tomorrow. If this theory does work, Sirius would immediately declare me emancipated, legally and magically. As the Minister of Magic, he does have the authority."

"It will work," said Dylan, more to himself than to Harry. "It has to work. Nothing will happen to you."

Harry looked at the two of them and smiled fondly. Putting an arm around each of them, he brought them to his chest, hugging them tightly. Somehow, the burden seemed to lessen as long as he had people who cared about him.

He would win. He was Harry Potter. He had survived after taking an _Avada Kedavra_ to the face at the age of one! He would not let a magical contract do this to him.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Mr Crouch was right, Minister," said Mr Martin, going through the file in front of him. "The magical contract being at odds with itself can be rectified by emancipating Mr Potter. Once he is declared of age, he will become an adult citizen with all the rights and responsibilities that come with it."

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. "What about the tournament?"

"That is something which is not possible to get out of," said the lawyer grimly. "This contract is authorised by the Goblet of Fire, an ancient magical artefact. It may have been tricked, but the magic behind it is legitimate. Mr Potter has to compete in all three tasks as any other champion or risk violating the terms of the contract."

"We were also discussing another theory," said Mrs Whittier. "Mr Potter might have already been recognised as an adult by the Goblet of Fire when it spat out his name. If that theory is right, it wouldn't affect him at all since he is _already_ recognised as an adult. Of course, there is no way to prove this, which is why magically and legally emancipating him is a better option."

Sirius nodded. "Do you have the papers?"

Several files with formal looking sheets of parchment were given to Sirius and Harry for them to sign. One was Sirius authorising the emancipation as his guardian and Minister of Magic; another was Harry being declared an adult citizen, giving him the right to vote amongst other things. The others were business matters with Sirius no longer acting as his guardian. Harry would now be Lord Potter and be addressed as such. The regency on the Wizengamot which Sirius held until he became Minister, which was then transferred to Lord Cyrus Greengrass would now be void. Instead, Harry would appoint Cyrus as his proxy.

Once Sirius signed the emancipation form, Harry was now magically and legally an adult. Harry then signed in several forms as 'Lord Harry James Potter.'

"There is another Lordship for which I need to appoint a proxy," said Harry quietly.

"Another?" asked Mr Martin sharply. Harry simply flashed his Slytherin ring. The man's eyes widened. He looked at his daughter who was gaping at the ring too. They both recognised it instantly. They had worn that very same crest on their uniforms for seven years, after all.

"I am Lord Slytherin," Harry explained, "but as you can imagine, this is going to cause plenty of chaos. Everyone thinks Voldemort is the Heir of Slytherin, but they're wrong. He certainly is the descendant of Salazar, but not the heir. That title belonged to my mother, and after her death, it belongs to me. I will be claiming my seat during the winter session of the Wizengamot, so please have the papers ready and prepared."

"Of course, Lord Potter," said Mr Martin, mentally dancing in joy. His client was the Lord of the Potter, Gryffindor and Slytherin families, not to mention the other important client was Lord Black who was also the Minister of Magic. He could already taste the new clients coming his way.

"Contact Obscurus Books and let them know that Godric's journal would be released on the first of December. I have also included a personal letter from Salazar himself in that book. That should take care of any pesky problems from those questioning my position."

"No one can question you, Harry," said Sirius frowning. "The Department of Mysteries would ensure that you are indeed wearing the real signet ring and not anything fake."

"Still, that won't stop people from accusing me of line-theft, especially those who support Voldemort," said Harry, smirking. "This way, they'll know the truth a week before I claim the Lordship."

"It shall be done, Lord Potter," said Mrs Whittier.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry pursed his lips as he entered the Great Hall the next day. The _Magical Daily_ had reported the truth about the whole affair. The article had come two days later after the selection of the champions and had described what had happened that night. The three original champions were mentioned and later, Harry's unfortunate forceful participation was mentioned. Rita Skeeter had also reported the part where Harry thought he might die at the first task for violating the contract and his immediate emancipation the next day to prevent it. She had speculated who could have done it, but none of that mattered to several Hogwarts students.

The Hufflepuffs had taken to completely ignoring Harry; well, half of them anyway. Susan had told him privately that it was not the matter of Harry's forced participation; it was because Hufflepuff never got a chance to shine and they felt it was an attempt to take the limelight away from them. The Ravenclaws were happy that they were being represented, so they extended their support to him; mostly. He already had the loyalty of the Gryffindors because of his position as Lord Gryffindor, but there had been problems because Ron Weasley kept insisting that Harry was a glory hound. Slytherin was fine with it because they liked Harry better than Diggory.

However, Harry had also underestimated how many people at the school were jealous of him. To everyone at Hogwarts, Harry had everything and this was just something else he had that they didn't. Harry ignored them. Had they lived his life, they would know exactly how difficult it was to be Harry Potter. He had become colder in public, as he had before, during the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. Jealous people couldn't be reasoned with. Harry knew that fame was fickle; he had learnt that lesson the hard way. They would shun him today and praise him tomorrow. He didn't give a damn about what they thought of him anyway.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Why don't you swear a magical oath?" asked Daphne exasperatedly.

"As I explained to you two years ago, I'm not risking my life for these idiots, just to prove that I was telling the truth," said Harry calmly.

"But they won't shun you anymore," she argued.

"Are you sure of that?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. "The Hufflepuffs only care about the limelight being on them. The rest who shun me are boys who are jealous of me. That's probably one-quarter of the school. The rest of them treat me just fine, even if they don't talk to me much. Why should I pander to those who don't like me or believe me? If they didn't believe me after they read that I could have very well lost my life thanks to this nonsense, they wouldn't care even if I give them an oath."

Daphne nodded in understanding.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Curiously, Harry's popularity with the girls hadn't suffered at all; in fact, it had increased if that was even possible. Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, and he already had an enormous fan following even before the Triwizard debacle. But what was more was that he was desired by nearly every girl from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang alike. Girls used to sigh and giggle every time they caught sight of him, and he had heard rumours from Astoria that the many girls now had large posters of him in their dorms. Tall, with a muscular frame, shoulder-length silky black hair, very handsome features and vivid green eyes made him the object of adoration for many and this annoyed Daphne. No one seemed to care that Harry was already engaged to be married.

Of course, Daphne wasn't faring any better. She had received several letters by owl from students from the other schools who asked her if she would like to go on a date with them. Harry was furious when he counted no less than twenty different letters from different boys, most of them describing how beautiful they thought she was. Daphne, of course, found the whole experience amusing and just vanished the whole lot of them, but their make-out sessions did get a lot more frequent and intense due to them wanting to prove to the other that they weren't interested in anyone else.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Take it off," said Dylan through gritted teeth, his face red with anger.

"Or what?" jeered Draco Malfoy. "What are you going to do, Lestrange? Or should I say, _bastard_?"

Dylan crumpled his hand into a fist. Draco was wearing a badge on his chest, which when tapped with a finger said, 'POTTER STINKS'. What to do? Uncle Sirius always told him not to get mad but get even. He would achieve nothing by attacking Malfoy, but he could do a lot more damage if he walked away.

He saw one of the Hufflepuffs wearing the badge so Dylan stunned the boy and pocketed it. Now he just had to find the best ones capable of manipulating the words on the badge. Luckily, he knew exactly where to find the Weasley twins. An evil grin formed its way to his lips. Oh, those fools wouldn't know what hit them!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

That night, Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner, having narrowly avoided an ambush by a dozen creepy, stalking fangirls. He sat down at his customary spot and noticed that Dylan wasn't there. Just when he had taken a bite of his food, Draco Malfoy came over with his goons.

"Hey, Potter," he said snidely. "Do you like the badges I created?"

 _Support Cedric Diggory – The REAL Hogwarts Champion_

Harry looked at the badges pinned to their robes and raised an eyebrow. "Very good, Draco," he said calmly. "I'm glad you're supporting the Hogwarts champion. I thought loyalty was something that was beneath the Malfoy family, but I'm pleased that you're changing your ways. Was there anything else?"

Draco flushed in outrage but tried to remain calm. "Look what it does now!" he said with a superior smirk.

Harry blinked his eyes when he saw it. He couldn't help but smile slightly. "Wow," he said, sounding amused. "I'm happy for you, cousin. I'm personally not into him; the greasy hair, hooked nose and that _charming_ personality of his put me off, not to mention I don't swing that way, but if you are happy, then I'm happy."

Draco looked confused and frowned at Harry. Meanwhile, Professor Snape, who had just entered the Great Hall, looked at the badges that a group of Hufflepuff boys and girls were wearing and his eyes widened. On the badge were the words –

 _I got buggered by Severus Snape_

"Fifty points from Hufflepuff!" Snape spat angrily, glaring at the group of students. "Take those ridiculous badges off immediately!"

"Yes sir," said one of them nervously. Just as they tried to remove it, they realised that it was stuck. The words changed again to form –

 _I had my nose stuck up Severus Snape's greasy, smelly arse_

"Another fifty points from Hufflepuff and a week's worth of detention! Who created these badges?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir," said one of them, looking ready to faint in fright.

"Draco, what is the meaning of this?" hissed Snape as he walked towards the pale boy.

"I don't know, sir, it was supposed to say Potter Stinks," he answered, trying to unpin the badge from his uniform. Instead, the words changed again.

 _I was in an orgy with Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore where_ _I buggered his wrinkled old arse and greasy Snape buggered mine_

"Enough!" shouted Snape, his anger now reaching dangerous levels. "Draco, come with me!"

The Potions Master was shooting filthy looks at Harry which promised eternal pain. Harry's face remained impassive.

"Did you like it?" Dylan asked quietly as he sat down next to his brother, suddenly appearing out of nowhere, desperately trying to hide a smirk. The Notice-me-Not charm on his person ensured that no one paid any attention to him.

Harry _knew_ that giving his Invisibility Cloak to the brat would be a bad idea and yet …

He was _so_ proud.

"Love you too," Harry murmured.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A week before the first task, the Weighing of the Wands was to take place. Harry made his way to the classroom where it was being held. When he entered, he saw that Cedric and Fleur were talking softly and Victor was looking out of the window. When Harry entered, Fleur smiled widely.

"Harry!" she said excitedly. "I haven't seen you for several days now! Where did you run off to?" she asked, pouting at him.

"Training, mostly," Harry shrugged casually. "What about you?"

Before Fleur could reply, Dumbledore, Madam Maxime and Karkaroff arrived with the Ministry and I.C.W. officials. Harry recognised the wandmaker; it was Garrick Ollivander. He also noticed several people of the media there as well, ready to take notes. He had a feeling their wand specifications would soon be made public; he found himself not caring about that.

"May I introduce Mr Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches ... inflexible ... rosewood ... and containing a single filament of hair from the head of a Veela ..."

"Yes," Fleur smiled brightly. "It belongs to my grandmother."

Ollivander nodded approvingly and proceeded to test her wand. Once he was satisfied, he went on to Cedric. Harry paid close attention to what was being said about their wands, as it could give him some insight on how their personality worked; he had studied the basics of wand lore, something which he found to be quite interesting, especially after what Ollivander had told him the last time.

"Unicorn hair ... Twelve and a quarter inches ... Ash ... pleasantly springy," he said and tested it. With that, he moved to Krum.

"Ah, a Gregorovitch creation, isn't it? A fine wandmaker, it's a shame that he retired ... Hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees ... quite rigid ... ten and a quarter inches."

Once tested, he finally came to Harry who presented him with his wand. "Which brings us to Mr Potter," said Ollivander as he accepted the wand. "Ah yes, how well I remember. The modifications are working perfectly, I assume?" Seeing Harry nod, he continued. "Fifteen inches ... Yew and Basilisk fang ivory, containing the tail feather of a Thunderbird. Unusually rigid."

"Garrick, did I hear you right?" asked Dumbledore politely. "Basilisk fang ivory in a wand?"

"Yes," Ollivander replied happily, though Harry's face remained impassive as always. "My finest work, if I do say so myself. Mr Potter here came to me more than a year ago to have his wand modified after that – incident – in the Chamber of Secrets. It's good to know that my modifications are working well. _Expecto Patronum_!"

An elephant erupted from the tip of Harry's wand as Mr Ollivander tested it. "Good, it is in fine working order."

People were staring at Harry even after it was done and Harry observed that Dumbledore was looking slightly disturbed, no doubt because the Basilisk was a dark creature. His wand wood had a dark reputation, his core was considered grey and the addition of the ivory was dark. Harry rolled his eyes. Really, witches and wizards should stop giving such labels to magic based on the amount of light present. It was annoying and from what he had read from his mother's journals, Lily Potter completely agreed with him.

Once the photographs were taken, Harry calmly left the room. He had to prepare to fight against a dragon.


	24. The First Task

**_Chapter 24_**

 ** _The First Task_**

"Absolutely not!"

It was three days before the First Task and the dragons had finally arrived. Just as Harry had suspected, they were not happy to have been brought here away from their home, nor were they happy to be caged.

"The dragons are already in danger due to this tournament, but there is no way are you risking the eggs by placing them in the arena. They could be destroyed by accident and I'm not going to let so many unborn dragons be killed just because witches and wizards have such a poor sense of what is _fun,_ " he said to the Head Dragon Keeper of the Romanian Dragon Reserve. They were standing in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest and the dragons were putting up one hell of a fight several feet away.

"But Lord Potter, the tournament officials –"

"As far as I'm aware, _I'm_ the owner of the reserve, Mr Dorian," Harry said coldly. "The tournament officials have no business ordering you about and neither does the International Confederation of Wizards. There will be no eggs placed in that arena, _is that clear_?"

"But Lord Potter, the eggs are part of the task," the Head Dragon Keeper argued nervously. "It has been specifically requested by the Triwizard Committee which has been commissioned by the I.C.W. We have a contract, sir, and we have to go through with it."

Harry folded his arms over his chest and looked at the dragons which were all stunned by several of the dragon handlers. The committee wanted eggs, but he wasn't willing to risk them. So the only option was –

"I'll contact my godfather and ensure that the British Ministry of Magic provides you with charmed duplicates," Harry said quietly. "Switch them with the real eggs and place them in the arena. Make sure that the mother dragons know that their eggs are safe; I don't want them to go on a rampage. How many are there in each clutch?"

" _Ahem_ ," the Head Keeper stammered, looking at his notes. "There are fifteen each, sir; that makes it sixty eggs in total."

Harry snorted. "There is no way am I risking the lives of sixty unborn dragons for this tournament. If the Triwizard Committee discovers the switch, just tell them that you were following orders and direct them to Minister Black. He'll handle them," he said flatly.

"Yes sir," the wizard nodded, mentally breathing a sigh of relief. At least he didn't have to deal with those people in case the worst happened. He was more than happy to shift the responsibility to someone else.

"And make sure you have Healers who specialise in dragon care nearby," Harry ordered. "I don't want the mother dragons fatally injured as well. Once the task is over, ensure that they are treated for their injuries. If Healers aren't here right now, ensure that they are present at the arena on the day of the task. Understood?"

"Yes, Lord Potter."

Harry nodded to the man but before he left, he paused. "You'll find the substitute eggs by tomorrow evening. Also, ensure that none of the real eggs is misplaced. I will not have anyone misuse the situation to steal the real eggs. If I catch anyone doing that, trust me when I say they will be looking for a new job, along with a nice stay in prison. Ensure that your employees are clear on that matter as well. And remember, Minister Black and I will know if we're being deceived. Good day, Mr Dorian."

"Damn," whispered the Head Keeper, wiping his brow, watching Harry walk away. That was a wizard to watch out for.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Do you think the other champions know about the dragons?" asked Dylan quietly.

"Maxime and Karkaroff would have told their students," said Harry as he finished his breakfast. It was the twenty-first of November; the day of the First Task.

"What about Diggory?"

"What _about_ Diggory? He's a champion of the Triwizard Tournament, Dylan. This tournament involves cheating and if he were smart, he should have realised that by now. Someone entered me into this tournament with the intention of killing me and I'll be damned if they succeed. I'm in this to win. If Diggory didn't figure it out, it is not my problem. His father is the Head of the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, so trust me, he knows about the dragons being brought here. If he cares about his son, he would have told him about it. I'm not doing his work for him and to be fair, I've already saved Diggory from Lockhart once. Sirius told me that they have taken plenty of measures to ensure that there are no fatalities. If competition is eliminated, I'm not going to complain. It gives me a better chance to win."

"How were you not sorted into Slytherin?" asked Dylan curiously.

Harry snorted. "Just because I'm not in Slytherin doesn't mean I don't have to be cunning; just because I'm not in Gryffindor doesn't mean I should not be brave; just because I'm not a Hufflepuff doesn't mean I'm not loyal to my friends and family. They're all personality traits and the Hat chooses Houses based on the dominant traits. I'm hoping that people would realise that once Godric's journal is released to the public."

Once they finished breakfast, they went outside. Daphne was sitting by the lake – she had been unable to eat because of her nervousness. Harry went behind her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'll be fine, Daph," said Harry in her ear. "Don't worry."

"You can't stop me from worrying," said Daphne, clutching her stomach as it did somersaults. "I just want to get this task over with. Please be careful, Harry."

"I will," he whispered as he kissed her passionately. Sirius and Amelia were there too, looking very nervous.

"Harry, expect the unexpected," said Amelia quietly. "The I.C.W. knows that cheating is part of the tournament. They'll throw in a few surprises as well. Be careful."

"I will," said Harry as he gave her a hug.

Sirius hugged him too. "Be careful, son," he gruffly. "I know you can do this. Good luck."

Dylan just rammed into him, hugging him tight and not wanting to let go. Harry smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"Good luck," muttered Dylan.

Nodding to them all, Harry entered the tent while the rest moved over to the stadium. The stadium where the First Task was to take place had been erected, with many witches and wizards paying entrance fees to watch it. It was not as large as the stadium of the Quidditch World Cup, but it was huge nevertheless. Large mirrors were placed everywhere so that they could see the champions' progress up close. Millions of witches and wizards around the world were now watching on their E-Mirrors too, wanting to see how the task would proceed.

Harry entered the tent and saw that Cedric, Fleur and Victor were already present. Nodding to them in greeting, he sat in the corner and closed his eyes, slipping into his mind. When he heard people entering the tent, he opened his eyes and walked forward. He was wearing a blue shirt and over it, black leather duelling clothes. Ludo Bagman offered them a silk bag from which they had to retrieve a model of what they would be facing. Cedric got the Swedish Short-Snout; Fleur got the Welsh Green; Krum got the Chinese Fireball, while Harry got the Hungarian Horntail. Going by their expressions, Harry could see that none of them was surprised at seeing the dragons.

"These are what you will be facing after going through, ahem, a couple of steps," said Bagman, beaming at them. "Good luck to you all!"

Harry was the fourth selected. The tent blocked out all sound which came from the outside so he had no idea what was happening. Two hours later, he was called. He breathed deeply, flicked his wand to his hand as he exited the tent. He entered the arena for the First Task.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry entered the arena and saw a hundred thousand faces looking back at him. He could see his face in the enormous mirrors placed all over the stadium. His face was a perfect emotionless mask as he walked forward. Tilting his head slightly, he wondered where the dragon was. He rotated the shaft of his wand, casting a detection spell. Encountering an enchantment, he began scanning for the ward trigger.

"Look at that, everyone," shouted Ludo Bagman. "Our fourth and youngest champion is doing something different as compared to the other three. He seems to be searching for something."

After two minutes of searching, Harry found it. Smirking slightly in triumph, Harry began breaking the trigger, just as he heard hissing sounds near him. Turning around, he found several Ashwinders slithering towards his position.

" _Stop,"_ hissed Harry in Parseltongue. _"I mean you no harm. Go back to where you came from."_

The Ashwinders hissed back, " _Yes, speaker."_

"Oh," said Bagman, though somewhat nervously. "That was certainly a unique way of dealing with the Ashwinders. Harry Potter was able to speak to them in Parseltongue and drove them away."

Harry searched for something in the air as if trying to grip something and after several seconds, he found the ward grip. He had studied this type of ward in Voldemort's memories, so he knew how to break them. Holding the grip in his right hand, he tapped it using the wand that was gripped in his left. Suddenly, the air around him seemed to shimmer.

" _Bombarda Maxima!_ "

The ripple of magic instead of the flash of white light was a testament to the control Harry had over his magic. The ward was blasted apart while the crowd cheered. Harry went forward and frowned. Now how was he supposed to get past these?

"Harry Potter has broken past the concealment ward and is now about to face the Griffins," said Bagman. "What is he doing? Did he just _bow_ to the Griffins?"

Harry knew that Griffins were powerful creatures and should not be underestimated. The Potters have always had high regard for the majestic creatures, which was why the family crest had two of them. He also knew the theory of getting past them. The Griffins were stationed around a pile of gold which contained a key which would be used to get past the next layer of wards. Instead of moving forward, Harry bowed to the creatures, maintaining eye contact. Griffins were very proud creatures, so he had to gain their trust first.

"Looks like Harry Potter is trying to befriend the Griffins instead of attacking them," said Bagman. "This is most unusual, but will his tactic work?"

Harry waited for a minute, not breaking eye contact at all. One of the Griffins, the alpha, bowed back slightly but looked suspicious. Harry straightened and slowly extended his hand, putting his wand back in its holster. He then took small, careful steps forward towards the alpha Griffin. When they saw him coming forward, the alpha shrieked angrily and raised its powerful wings threateningly, but Harry did not back down. He still maintained eye contact and slowly approached. People in the stadium were holding their breath. Some were shaking their heads at his foolishness but Dumbledore was smiling knowingly.

When he was just a few feet from the alpha, Harry stopped, his hand still extended outward. The Griffin made a soft noise but edged forward. Slowly, inch by inch, it crept forward and Harry smiled as his hand touched the soft feathers. The stadium exploded in cheers, but Harry did not hear them because of the silencing charms.

"Hello, o majestic one," whispered Harry. "It's an honour to meet you."

The Griffin made a sound as Harry scratched its feathers. Seeing the alpha accept him, the other two Griffins also approached him. Harry subtly flicked his wand as he summoned the ferrets which Hagrid kept near his hut to feed the Thestrals and Hippogriffs. When the dead food appeared, he fed it to the Griffins.

"Amazing!" shouted Bagman in awe. "I've never seen anything like it!"

As the crowd went berserk, Harry went and took the large key from the pile of Leprechaun gold. He opened the ward with the key and went forward, only to be met with weird looking creatures.

" _What_ the hell are you?" asked Harry, frowning.

He was facing three giant scorpion-looking creatures. They were probably ten feet long and had stingers over their backs and also had what looked like shiny armour. Harry also realised that there was no reasoning with these creatures, whatever they were. They did not possess the superior intelligence of the Griffins.

" _Stupefy!_ "

Ripples in the air with a pale red right marked the stunning spells which left Harry's wand as they impacted the Blast-Ended Skrewts, but the spells just reflected off the armour. Harry dived out of the way when he saw two more Skrewts approached him from behind. The end of the Skrewt exploded, but Harry had created a full body shield in place to help him; learning from the Dark Lord was certainly beneficial in giving Harry lots of new tricks and spells in his arsenal.

Harry realised now that conventional spells weren't going to work. He knew of spells that would kill the Skrewts, but he doubted that the judges would like that and Dumbledore would call him to his office again to ensure he was not going 'dark'. To avoid all that, Harry jumped out of the path of the Skrewts again and ran in the opposite direction. He turned around but was not able to avoid the blast. Harry was thrown back against a boulder, his shirt smoking as he winced in pain. Rising to his feet angrily, Harry slashed his wand at the ground.

A rumble could be heard as the ground in front of him cracked open. Harry levitated one of the Skrewts and used it to push the others bodily into the crack in the earth. Once done, he put the fifth one inside as well and fired a massive jet of water at them and fired a freezing charm to keep them in place. Once done, he moved on to disabling the next concealment ward.

"Brilliant!" shouted Bagman over the deafening roars of the crowd. "Such cool application of logic in the face of danger; Harry Potter is the only champion who managed to overcome the Blast-Ended Skrewts relatively unharmed!"

After disabling the ward, Harry's swallowed in fear as he saw the massive Hungarian Horntail in front of him. The dragon was _huge_! Harry may have faced a Basilisk, but a dragon was no less dangerous. He was just glad they hadn't thought of a Nundu.

Taking a deep breath, Harry tapped his wand on his head, disillusioning himself. The crowd watched curiously as being invisible would not work against the dragon because of the creature's sense of smell. Harry didn't attempt that, however. He raised his wand and mentally said, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

Three enormous silvery thunderbirds burst from the tip of Harry's wand, going towards the dragon. The Hungarian Horntail might be the most ferocious dragon in the world, but it could sense that the silvery creatures were not a threat to her or her eggs. The eggs, in fact, were chicken eggs enlarged and made to look like dragon eggs which Sirius had provided for the task. The real dragon eggs were safely stored in the forest for the mother dragons to come and claim them again once the tasks were done.

"Oh ho," asked Bagman excitedly. "It looks like Harry Potter has conjured a Patronus; a very unusual way to get past a nesting mother dragon."

As the Patroni danced around the dragon, making it happy as the positive emotions influenced it, Harry pointed his wand at the sky and said, " _Accio Hagrid's roosters!"_

Pretty soon, a dozen roosters flew into the arena due to the summoning charm. Harry cast an Enlargement Charm on them to make them bigger and then made sure they wouldn't escape. He purposely kept them a bit away from the nest so that he could approach it with safety. He then cast charms on the roosters that made them give out an aroma that would definitely excite the dragon.

He was right. With the Patroni dancing around it, the dragon was already very happy, and now it had a meal as well. It looked around, and after making sure there was nothing that could be a threat to its eggs, it went forward to roast the chickens and eat them. While it was happily feasting on them, Harry quickly went to the nest and removed the golden egg and carried it away from the dragon, and into a safe enclosure. He cancelled the disillusionment charm and the Patroni disappeared as well. The crowd roared loudly.

"Look at that!" yelled Bagman. "Just look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg, and he did it with the least amount of injuries! Is that amazing or what? Merlin, this is surely going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter! Congratulations to Harry James Potter on getting through the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament! Now, our judges have a few minutes to decide their scores."

Harry was pumping with adrenalin as he walked out of the arena. Just when he turned around a corner, he was assaulted by a blur hugging him tightly, her lips firmly attached to his. Harry smiled as he reciprocated, wrapping his free arm around her.

"You were brilliant," breathed Daphne. "Absolutely brilliant."

Harry grinned at her and was attacked by a blur from behind as well. Harry laughed as he put an arm around Dylan.

"That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen!" said Dylan excitedly. "You were awesome! Well, of course, you were. I knew you would be!"

"You did, huh?" asked Daphne, looking very amused. Dylan poked his tongue out at her as Harry laughed. Soon, they were joined by everyone else who congratulated Harry on his victory. The judges began giving their scores. Because of the nature of the tournament, Supreme Mugwump Albus Dumbledore had come up with a brilliant idea that made the judges sign a contract that ensured they would judge the champions as fairly as possible and going by the look on Karkaroff's face, Harry could see that the man hated having to sign the contract. Finally, Harry's score was 48 points; Victor was in second place with 41 points, Fleur was third with 38 points while Cedric was fourth with 37 points.

With an arm around Daphne's waist and Dylan holding the golden egg, Harry and his friends made their way to the castle. The First Task was complete and Harry had performed admirably.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Attention everyone," said Dumbledore as he got up from his throne. It was dinner time and people were chattering excitedly over the First Task which had taken place just several hours ago. "I would first like to congratulate all of our champions in getting past the various obstacles in the First Task and retrieving the Golden Egg. The champions already know this, but the Second Task would be held on the twenty-first of February and the clue to what the task is about is for the champions to figure out."

"We still have three months for that so let us put it out of our minds," said Dumbledore smiling. "For now, let us concentrate on something more joyful. The Yule Ball is a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament which gives us an opportunity to mingle and socialise with each other. Traditionally –"

He was interrupted when students, girls especially began squealing and giggling in earnest and Harry found it very difficult to ignore so many people staring at him. He tried to, though, as he fixed his gaze at the Headmaster as though ordering him to continue. Dumbledore's beard twitched in amusement, smiling at Harry's predicament as he said, "Traditionally, the ball would be open only to fourth years and above –"

There were loud groans and even Dylan looked upset. Dumbledore held up his hand. "As I was saying, traditionally, the ball would be open only to fourth years and above, but this time, we will be allowing students of all years to take part, but let me remind you that it is not mandatory. If the first to third-year students or even an older student feels that he or she does not want to attend, they may choose not to do so. Dress robes will be worn and the ball will begin at seven o'clock on the twenty-first of December, finishing at – well, that is up to you. I hope you all can enjoy yourselves. The Hogwarts Express will leave on the twenty-third of December this year in addition to the eighteenth, so those who want to go home for the Yule holidays may do so. That's all for tonight, so chop-chop!"

People began muttering excitedly but Dylan was suddenly looking nervous. He turned around and saw that Harry had an amused expression on his face.

"Aren't you happy that you can attend the ball?" asked Harry, a teasing smiling forming on his lips.

"I guess," said Dylan quietly. "But there is a problem. I – I don't know how to dance."

"Well," said Harry, putting an arm around Dylan's shoulders as the two of them made their way to Ravenclaw Tower. "Let me let you in on a little secret. I didn't know how to dance either until three years ago."

"You didn't know how to dance before that?" asked Dylan in confusion. "I thought you said the ghost of Alfred Potter and the rest of the portraits insisted you go for classes."

Harry chuckled. "I attended classes on martial arts, not dancing," said Harry softly. "It was a waste of time back then, but when I received an invitation to a ball at Greengrass Manor, I decided that I had to learn, so I asked Daphne to teach me. Not ask, actually. It was more like a business deal. We even shook hands when we made the deal."

Dylan laughed. "So what am I going to do?" he asked quietly.

"Not to worry, I'm here for you," said Harry. "By the time the ball arrives, I will have you dancing like a pro because there are some useful spells that can help you. You'll sweep Tori off her feet."

Dylan blushed, but a thought struck him. "What if Draco asks her before I do?" he asked, looking alarmed.

"If he asks her before you, then you have to respect her decision," said Harry. "Otherwise, you can ask her tomorrow. Daphne is not a girl who will accept a simple 'will you go to the ball with me' question. She demands to be treated like a queen and I have to ensure that I keep up with that. It's actually an annoying trait of hers, but no one is perfect; I know that I'm not. I honestly have no idea how she puts up with me. Anyway, we'll plan something for Tori too. Do you have something in mind for her?"

Dylan thought for a minute as they walked up the stairs. "Actually, I do. But I'm not sure if I can pull it off."

"Why fear when you have me?" asked Harry, with a confident smirk on his face.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The next morning, Astoria slowly opened her eyes, listening to soft sounds coming from somewhere. Blinking, she got up and turned to her right only to gasp in shock. There was a beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers. Next to the flowers was a small puppy, looking at her expectantly as it let of soft sounds.

"A puppy?" whispered Astoria as she picked it up.

It was a baby Crup, a female she noticed. The forked tail had been cut off, leaving only a single tail so she knew that it must be about six weeks old. It resembled a Jack Russell Terrier and looked adorable. It also had a pink bowtie with a note attached.

 _Dear Astoria,_

 _I wanted to give her to you as a present for Yule, but I decided now was a better time. Would you do me the honour of going to the Yule Ball with me?_

 _Love,_

 _Dylan_

"Aww," Astoria cooed as she petted the puppy. She had told him a few months back that she would like a Crup as well after seeing the one that Dylan owned and she couldn't believe like he had bought her one! That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her! A large smile broke out on her face. To think he would go through all this just to ask her to the ball! Of course, she knew that Harry must have had a hand in it, but she didn't care about that. All that mattered was that she would have to accept the invitation and give Dylan the biggest hug of his life!

She summoned one of the Greengrass house-elves and asked it to create a bed for the puppy and give it some food. Once she was finished with her bath, she came down to the common room to wait for her sister. She couldn't wait to share this with her! As she was talking to one of her friends, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Turning around, she saw Draco Malfoy flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as always.

"Astoria, would you do me the honour of going to the Yule Ball with me?" asked Draco formally. He was smug with the knowledge that nobody else would have asked her this soon. After all, Dumbledore had announced the ball just last night. He didn't see how she would deny him.

"Draco, I'm flattered that you would ask me," said Astoria, smiling weakly, feeling guilty for declining him, "but I already have a date. I'm sorry."

"What?" Draco exclaimed in shock, finding it hard to keep the hurt from showing on his face. "But the ball was announced just last night! You didn't meet anyone after dinner. Who is it?" he demanded.

"Dylan. Dylan Lestrange."

"You're going with _Lestrange_?" asked Draco, looking disgusted. "Astoria, why would you want to go with him? He's a bastard child!"

Astoria's expression cooled slightly. "Maybe so, but he is also my best friend. He asked me to accompany him to the ball and I said yes. Please do not insult him in front of me, Draco. I don't like it."

Draco gritted his teeth. "If that's your decision, then I'll respect it," he said curtly as he left, looking furious and hurt at the same time.

"I think you handled that rather well," said Daphne quietly, emerging from the corner, frowning slightly at Draco Malfoy's retreating form.

Astoria nodded slowly, feeling bad for hurting Draco's feelings. Her eyes lit up when she remembered what had happened before this incident. "I have something important to tell you!" she gushed. Daphne smiled as they walked to the Great Hall. That was really sweet of Dylan and rather sweet of Harry to help him too. Oh, who was she kidding? She knew that Harry would probably scale the top of a mountain if Dylan asked him to do it. It was so adorable to see those two together. Anyone watching them would think they were actual siblings instead of people who had met just a year and a half ago. Of course, time didn't matter if people were able to gel well together; she and Harry were proof of that.

As they walked up to the entrance hall, they stopped, blinking their eyes in surprise. The place was filled with bouquets of red roses and white lilies. Daphne realised who was behind this immediately. Roses were her favourite flower while Harry's were lilies. When she heard someone clear their throat, she turned around, only to find Harry holding one of those bouquets.

"Daphne Greengrass, would you do me the honour of being my date to the Yule Ball?"

Daphne smiled brightly. "I would love to," she answered, pulling him closer for a kiss as several people clapped. Since it was still quite early in the morning, there weren't many present, but the news would spread like Fiendfyre soon enough.

"I can't believe you did this; is this all for me?" she whispered in awe, looking at the various bouquets in the entrance hall. She smelled the flowers in her hand; they were so beautiful.

Harry opened his mouth but closed it again. "Yes, of course," he said, signalling something behind him with his hand. From the corner of her eye, she could see Dylan pulling out his wand and casting spells on something

"Really?" asked Daphne, eyes narrowing.

She turned around before Harry could stop her and caught Dylan in the act. He was in the process of getting rid of price tags on the different bouquets.

"You were going to sell them to other students?" asked Daphne, aghast.

"What are you going to do with fifty bouquets?" Harry retorted, looking quite confused. "Sure, they look pretty, but once I asked you, what's the point in keeping them? At least this way it would be of some use to others, right?"

Daphne didn't know how to reply to that. She groaned. Leave it to Harry to ruin a special moment. She honestly hadn't expected anything like this; in fact, there wasn't a need for him to ask her at all! Of course, her mother, the _relationship guru_ _,_ would say the problem was due to lack of communication. Daphne honestly didn't understand what her mother meant by that and she knew that Harry didn't either.

Dylan was silently snickering in the background. He had warned Harry against doing this, but he hadn't listened. Harry might be a genius, but he was incredibly dense when it came to human emotions, but from what Aunt Amelia had told him, Harry had gotten a lot better with time.

Suddenly, someone crashed into him, giving him a big hug. "Thank you so much for the puppy," whispered Astoria in his ear. "She's adorable."

"You're welcome," said Dylan, blushing madly.

"I would love to go to the ball with you," said Astoria, pecking him on the cheek.

Dylan touched his cheek where Astoria had kissed him. A dopey grin formed on his face and he looked ready to faint.

It was worth all the effort.


	25. Romance and a Book Release

**_Chapter 25_**

 ** _Romance and a Book Release_**

Fleur Delacour was hanging out with her friends in Hogsmeade as she kept an eye on Harry Potter. He had just entered one of the high-society shops in Hogsmeade called Twilfit and Tattings along with that younger boy he had referred to as his brother. Telling her friends that she would meet them later, Fleur entered the shop too and could immediately realise why it was not as crowded as the rest of the village. This shop was meant for the elite. She kept browsing through some of the clothes while keeping an eye on Harry. She was here to ask him something important and finally had the privacy to do so.

"If it isn't Lord Potter," said Mr Twilfit with a broad smile. "Congratulations on your emancipation, Harry. I watched you during the First Task of the tournament, and if I may say so, you were brilliant. How may I help you today?"

"Hello, Jacen. We're here to buy dress robes for my brother," said Harry, a small smile forming on his lips as he nodded to the young man.

Jacen Twilfit was in his early twenties and was the son of the owner of Twilfit and Tattings. Jacen managed the Hogsmeade branch of the company while his parents operated the shop at Diagon Alley. Having interacted with the Boy-Who-Lived over the past few years, he had taken a liking to Harry, which was why the two were on a first name basis.

"It's a please to finally meet you, Mr Lestrange," said Mr Jacen Twilfit formally, shaking the boy's hand. "Now, what material are you looking for? The usual, Harry?"

"Yes. Acromantula silk would do perfectly. What colours do you recommend if his date is dressed in purple?"

"Charcoal Grey would do," said Mr Twilfit as he flicked his wand, causing a mannequin to appear, wearing similar coloured dress robes. "I would recommend a light purple shirt and a dark purple tie. Do you want a long tie or a bow tie?"

Harry looked at Dylan with raised eyebrows. "What do you think?"

"I have never seen you wear a bow tie before," said Dylan, looking at the mannequin curiously.

"That's because I don't like it," Harry shrugged. "I prefer a long tie. Let's see which suits you best and we'll go with that."

Mr Twilfit again flicked his wand at the mannequin and Dylan frowned when he saw the bow tie. "No, you're right. I think I'll go with the long tie," he said as he observed the other one.

"I think this design is too simple, Jacen," observed Harry. "Add a vest to it, will you?"

Mr Twilfit caught on to Harry's idea. The shirt changed to white in colour and a purple vest appeared, with a tie of the same colour. The trousers and expertly styled robe changed to dark charcoal grey.

"Cool," said Dylan, looking impressed.

"I like it too," said Harry, nodding in appreciation. "Now, how do we make it better?"

"What do you mean? It looks perfectly fine to me!"

"Your brother is right, Mr Lestrange," said Mr Twilfit with a smile. "It needs a few extra items without which it would look ordinary. I'm sure you would have observed it on Harry's dress robes before."

"Harry! You can't be serious! Are you sure about this? Your dress robes are very fancy and expensive," he whispered, looking apprehensive.

"Trust me on this; I've done this several times before. They may be very expensive, but they last you a long time and can be recycled as you grow up. Ever since I was a child, the portraits at the castle drilled into me that I should always look impeccable and that appearance and the way I carried myself were important for someone of my standing. You're the scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange, a family whose name has been tainted horribly in recent years and the Yule Ball is an important event, so try to understand the seriousness of this and why we're buying this stuff. We're doing this to secure your future, Dylan, so don't look at the price tag because we can easily afford it. You already have a bad reputation because of you being born out of wedlock and being dressed sloppily will not help matters," said Harry seriously. "I can't believe you don't own a watch. That's the next item on the agenda for today."

"Not more shopping!" groaned Dylan.

"Hey, be glad that I convinced Daphne that I would handle it! If she were here, she would have insisted that you try on different materials and colours until she agreed with it. I spared you three excruciating hours by not bringing her here, but I have to admit, her fashion sense is much better than mine."

"Remind me never to go shopping with her then," he shuddered. Harry mentally snickered. He didn't want to mention to his brother that Astoria was worse.

"What about you, Harry?" asked Mr Twilfit as an assistant came forward to take Dylan's measurements.

"I'd like a tie and vest both in deep wine red; no shirt, robe or trousers. The extras are the same as usual."

"You already own a white shirt, but why no robe or trousers?" whispered Dylan curiously.

"I have something special for that," Harry smirked. "I have been itching to try it out and I finally have the occasion to do so. I –"

"Harry!" Fleur greeted him happily, deciding to finally announce her presence. "Finished shopping?"

"Hello, Fleur. I didn't see you there. Are you here to buy a dress for the ball?"

"Oh no, I got my dress before I left France," she replied. "I was just checking out the clothes here. I forgot to congratulate you after the First Task. Your approach to getting past all the obstacles was amazing."

"Thank you," said Harry, turning back to the assistant as the tape automatically measured him. "You did very well too. Are you excited for the Yule Ball?"

"Oh yes," said Fleur flirtatiously. "But I still don't have a date yet, so I was wondering ... would you like to go to the ball with me, Harry?"

Dylan blinked his eyes in shock. Surely this girl must know that Harry was already taken, right?

"Fleur, I'm flattered that you would ask me," said Harry slowly. "But I already have a date. I'm taking my fiancée, Daphne Greengrass."

"Fiancée?" asked Fleur in confusion and not a little anger. She found it difficult to control her instincts. Her Veela nature demanded that she find a powerful mate and when she did, especially one who was resistant to her allure, he was _already_ engaged to be married?

"Yes," answered Harry as he gave his Gringotts debit card to Mr Twilfit to pay for their purchases. "We have been betrothed for three years now. I love her."

"I see," said Fleur quietly.

"I apologise for having to decline your offer, Fleur, but I won't be going to the ball with anyone else," said Harry after a pause. "Daphne is the love of my life and there is no power in the world that can change that. I'm sure you'll find someone else to take to the ball who is worthy of you. Good luck!"

Dylan didn't waste any time in dragging Harry out of there. He needed to find Daphne and tell her what happened. He didn't know if Harry observed the anger in that girl's eyes, but he certainly did. Were all Veela like that or was it just her?

"Didn't she know that you were betrothed?" asked Dylan, not a little ticked off. The past year and a half of being with Harry all the time made Dylan really appreciate Daphne's presence in his life as well and so he did not like it when someone did anything to make Daphne upset like that. Dylan really looked up to her and Fleur looked like a potential problem.

"Well, going by her reaction, it was obvious that she didn't. It's her nature, Dylan, we can't blame her for that," said Harry calmly as they browsed a selection of magical wrist watches after buying one for Dylan. "She is probably attracted to me because I'm one of the very few who can resist her allure. Now that she knows that I am betrothed, she will leave me alone. Besides, it was just a simple invitation to the ball, nothing more. She politely asked me and I politely declined. There's nothing more to it."

"And what if she decided to fight Daphne to claim you from her?"

"What am I, a toy?" asked Harry incredulously. "I doubt that's going to happen. Veela may be magical creatures, but they are highly intelligent. Sure, their heritage makes them more primal, but I have seen more witches and wizards who act without control than Veela. I'm actually impressed by the control she has over her powers. She is quite talented and would not have been selected as a Triwizard Champion otherwise."

Dylan was unusually quiet as they left the shop. After five minutes when Harry didn't get a proper response, he frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing …"

"Dylan!" protested Harry, turning him around, waving a hand to wandless cast a privacy charm around them both.

"There are several dozen girls at Hogwarts who fancy you, if not more," Dylan whispered, looking upset. "There are several more in Beauxbatons and Durmstrang as well, but you readily ignore all of them. You hardly speak to them unless they come looking for a conversation but yet, you don't do anything to stop Fleur from blatantly flirting with you. Don't you see how much it hurts Daphne's feelings every time she does that?"

"I really don't understand that," Harry frowned slightly. "Why is Daphne getting so worked up over this? She's becoming more and more withdrawn as the days pass by."

"That's because Fleur has been flirting with you during every meal since she came to Hogwarts and it has increased ever since the Yule Ball was announced. You haven't really noticed that, have you? Harry, she's bloody terrified that Fleur will steal you away from her! You know how much Daphne loves you and –"

"I have told Daphne over and over again that she has nothing to fear from her! Why does she doubt me?"

"It's not that she doesn't trust you, Harry, but the problem is that you don't realise that Fleur might actually be a threat," said Dylan softly. "You haven't observed the impact she is having on Daphne, but Astoria and I have. I'm not blaming you, but unless you fix this right now, it could damage your relationship with Daphne in the future and should that happen, you'll never forgive yourself for it. You're my brother, Harry, and I love you; I don't ever want to see you unhappy, but you will never be happy if Daphne is depressed, you know that."

Harry's form was unusually still as he let his mind wander. Had he been so oblivious to Daphne's emotional needs for so long? He knew that she was a mature, strong-willed and determined girl, but Harry remembered every instance over the past month where she would shut herself away, and Harry suddenly realised that during every instance, he would either be talking to Fleur or about her and sometimes defending the French girl because of her heritage. Was that why Daphne felt like this? Did she think he was attracted to Fleur? Another memory flashed to his mind as he recalled what Daphne had told him several weeks ago when they had been duelling in the Room of Requirement; it was the incident when Daphne thought she had killed him.

 _"I can't begin to describe how much I love you," whispered Daphne softly, looking into the emerald green orbs as she cupped his cheek. "That's why I'm scared."_

"Thanks for your help, little brother. I need to talk to Daphne," muttered Harry. "Where is she?"

"We were supposed to meet for lunch at the usual spot by the large Oak tree in front of Dominic Maestro's Music Shop," he said quietly and left. "Good luck."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Daphne Greengrass was standing at the base of a tree, looking at the beautiful Scottish scenery around her. Snow covered the high mountains and the cold breeze blew against her face, making her dark-blonde hair flutter in the wind. Putting her hands into the pockets of her white leather jacket, she activated the warming charms embedded in her clothes to counter the cold wind. Daphne was just about to turn around to head back to the castle when she heard an eagle's cry. Looking up, she saw a familiar golden eagle perched on a branch above her. The eagle's eyes were a stunning emerald green and there was a dark patch above the right eye shaped like a lightning bolt. Looking unconcerned, she turned back to the scenery, a ghost of a smile forming on her lips.

"What are you doing here, _Talon_?" she asked, looking up at the bird, her eyes twinkling slightly in amusement as she used Harry's Marauder nickname.

The eagle screeched.

"I'm sorry but I don't speak bird; you'll have to translate," said Daphne as she sat down on the ground, vanishing the snow with a flick of her wand. The eagle made a clicking sound as it hopped to the ground next to her. Daphne couldn't help but smile at the sight of the large bird. It might look intimidating to others with its razor-sharp talons, powerful beak and large wings, but she wasn't intimidated at all. She gently stroked the feathers.

"I know what you're thinking," said Daphne softly to the eagle. "I ran into Dylan and Astoria on the way here. He told me everything."

The eagle made soft sounds as it butted its head against her hand. Daphne turned and looked into its eyes. "I'm not mad at you. How can I? You don't understand any of this. I don't blame you, Harry, I really don't. Don't blame yourself either. Yes, you still are unfamiliar with how to comprehend emotions and how to deal with people, but I'm proud of how well you have improved over the past three years. However, I can't help the way I feel about this. I know that you feel protective of me, and I don't for a second doubt the love you have for me, but ... I don't know how to explain it. I feel like I'm not up to the mark when I compare myself to Delacour."

The eagle screeched again and shook its head as Daphne chuckled humourlessly. "I know, in your eyes, I am perfection and you have no idea how much that means to me. According to Mother, it is teenage hormones," Daphne said, shaking her head in exasperation. With a sigh, she continued, "Why do you let her so blatantly flirt with you, Harry? Why don't you put a stop to it?"

The eagle just looked at her blandly. Looking around to ensure no one was watching, Harry shifted back to his human form and sat down, pulling Daphne to his lap.

Holding her with her back to his chest, he said, "I did put a stop to it today. I told her that you are the love of my life and that nothing can keep you away from me. Daphne, she is not doing it intentionally; she is just following her Veela instincts. She is naturally attracted to powerful wizards and I also happen to be immune to her allure. I'm not denying that she has faults; Merlin knows, I've seen her constantly complaining about Hogwarts food and her condescending attitude annoys several people, including me."

"But tell me something; how would you feel if every guy you met only lusted after you? Wouldn't you wonder if you could ever be in a relationship? You already get a lot of attention from the boys at Hogwarts and they stay away because of me. Just think about the increased attention you've received from boys from the two foreign schools over the past month and a half. What if we had not been betrothed? Just imagine how your life would have been with boys trying to get into your pants because of your looks and also for your title and money. Can't you see where she is coming from? I can understand her position, with me being hailed as the Boy-Who-Lived. As for her being attracted to me – well – I'm not tooting my own horn or anything, but she is hardly the only one. I've told you over and over again that I'm not interested in her and that I deeply love you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Daphne turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Smiling slightly, Harry wrapped his arms around her, gently running his fingers through her long hair.

"What do you see in me?" she asked, pulling back, looking into his eyes. "If not for the betrothal contract, you would never have spoken to me. Maybe you would have found someone better. You still have that opportunity, but you don't use it. Why?"

Gently cupping her cheek, he nuzzled his face against hers. "Because you are perfect," he said softly in her ear. "You, Daphne, are everything I could ever want in a girl. No one would understand me better. You helped me discover parts of myself I have never known before. I have always suppressed my emotions because of my natural Occlumency barriers, not to mention what happened with my relatives, and when I came to Hogwarts, I had no idea how to comprehend the new emotions I was feeling. You entered my life and made me feel emotions which I could not understand."

"I saw a young, very intelligent, beautiful young girl who could keep up with me. I saw a girl who was not afraid to argue with me and tell me when I'm doing something wrong. I saw a girl who was smart enough to use a mirror to check for threats so that she didn't die by the stare of a Basilisk. I saw a girl who didn't back away from me even though she was petrified and nearly _died_ because of her relationship with me; if anything, she stuck even closer to my side after that incident in order to do her best to keep me safe. I saw a powerful and talented girl who mastered the Patronus Charm at the age of thirteen, enough to help me drive away three hundred Dementors. I saw a girl who stood by my side when the entire country was shunning me because of my talent of being able to speak to snakes. Not once did she step away from me, always giving her undying support which I badly needed back then."

"I saw a girl who came by to help a traumatised young boy, even after she found out the said boy was the son of one of the most dangerous Death Eaters in the country, just because her fiancé said so. I saw a girl who patiently explained what love was to a thirteen-year-old boy who had never understood that emotion. I saw a girl who taught me how to dance even though you never had the obligation to do so. I saw a girl who took the responsibility of looking after my godson when I could not, forming a bond with the child because of his relationship with me. I saw a girl who formed a deep bond with a young boy when she realised how much Dylan meant to me."

"I saw a girl who was traumatised beyond belief when she realised that I could die when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. I saw a girl who cursed Marietta Edgecombe in the face when she called me a cheat in public, willing to brave detention for doing so. I saw a girl who is so talented in Charms that I know that she would be known as the Queen of Enchanters one day. I saw a girl whose heart is so filled with love for me that she can't stand to even think of losing me to someone else. I saw a girl who I'm so completely in love with that I can never imagine living my life without her. Tell me Daphne, when I see all this, why on earth should I even bother looking at someone else, Veela or not?"

Daphne hugged him tightly, her face buried in his neck, her form trembling. Harry rocked her back and forth as he calmed her down. Looking back at him, she leaned up and gently and lovingly captured his lips, kissing him passionately, pouring all the love she felt for him. After a minute, they broke apart, their foreheads touching each other as they gazed into each other's eyes.

"A heartfelt confession for someone who says he suppresses his emotions," said Daphne teasingly as she placed light kisses along the side of his face.

"You know that I would go to the ends of the earth to make you happy," said Harry quietly. "Letting my emotions take control for a while is a small price to pay as long as you are happy."

"Well, I certainly appreciate the gesture," said Daphne. "I love you too, Harry. I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I promise you, it will never happen again."

"Good. And I promise to keep my jealousy in check too. Now, how about we go on a date?"

"Where?"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Why do you shop so much?" cried Dylan. "Don't you have enough already?"

"I'm not buying these only for myself! These are gifts I need to give to everyone for Yule," said Astoria defensively.

"The next time I volunteer to shop with you, would someone _please_ confine me to the Hospital Wing? This is torture!"

Astoria laughed. "Oh, alright you big baby! Let's take a break. Look! Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop is just around the corner."

"What's that? Do they serve good pastries?"

"They do. The older students go there for – _ahem_ – anyway, the pastries are quite good. Come on."

"As long as I get to eat, I'm fine with it."

They entered the shop and Dylan raised his eyebrows. The decorations were all pink and frilly and his eyes widened.

"Tori, don't you think it's a little inappropriate to come here when we're not dating?" he asked, blushing slightly.

"Is that an invitation for a date in the future?" asked Astoria coyly as they took a seat. "Is that what you're saying, Dylan?"

Dylan's face turned pink and glared at her when he saw her snickering. Suddenly, he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"No, not again! I swear I'll be scarred for life with those two around me!"

Astoria looked at him with raised eyebrows and turned back to see what was happening and immediately regretted it. Her face too turned pink in embarrassment. Behind her, Harry and Daphne were sitting at a table, ignoring their tea, engaged in a _very_ intense make-out session. Dylan felt like banging his head on the table.

"What do you mean 'again'?" asked Astoria curiously.

"Have you forgotten that I live with that dolt?" whispered Dylan. "You would think that living in such a large castle would give them ample privacy but nooo ... I have lost count of the number of times I have walked in on them like this; no, I have walked in on them when it was worse. At least Harry is wearing clothes this time."

"NO!" whispered Astoria in shock, urging him to go on.

"YES!" Dylan grinned. "Harry doesn't care much for clothes at home; it's one of his little quirks. I was quite embarrassed when I first saw him naked, just after he had achieved his Animagus transformation, and again after I moved into Potter Castle, seeing him move around in a state of undress. What surprised me was that he didn't seem to care. When I asked him about it, he said that he was more comfortable that way and that he had gotten used to moving around without clothes since the time he was seven or eight years old. He said that in his house, he would do what the hell he wanted. It was a little awkward for me for a few days, but then I got used to it until I didn't even realise it much. As for my brother and to-be sister-in-law, they don't really care that people might be watching but at least Daphne has the sense to keep her clothes on. Harry, on the other hand," he chuckled and continued, "There have been some amusing instances too, though. Why, this one time, my dog Tango began chasing Harry and it turned out to be something hilarious. You see ..."

An hour later, they finished their food and walked out, idly noting that the older couple was in no hurry to finish their date.

"So," said Astoria casually. "Have _you_ ever walked the corridors of Potter Castle nude, just to test Harry's theory of it being comfortable?"

When Dylan was looking anywhere but at her, refusing to meet her eyes, she burst out laughing. "Please tell me you didn't!"

"He was not wrong in his theory of it being comfortable! The only other occupant of the castle was my brother and he obviously didn't mind and there were no girls around, so what was the problem? As he said, I'll dress, or in this case, not dress, the way I want in _my_ house. It's big enough to give us ample privacy and the portraits don't really count as people."

"Isn't it awkward?"

"It's a personal preference, I guess," Dylan shrugged. "I admit, I couldn't look Harry in the eye for a couple of days in the beginning, but once I got used to his presence, it didn't feel strange. I also had to get used to being comfortable in my own skin, and that took courage and self-confidence, something I didn't have at the time. As for it being awkward, he's my older brother, not some boy or girl next door who likes to perv at me. It's our house, Tori. If we're comfortable with it, then that's what we'll do. As Harry said, no one has the right to deny us that freedom."

"I see now why you appear to be a lot more confident than last year," teased Astoria. "Maybe I should sneak in when you're least expecting it to take a peek and see what you're hiding under those clothes. What do you say, Dylan?"

"Shut up," mumbled Dylan, his cheeks colouring pink. He coughed; he couldn't stop blushing. Why was it so hot all of a sudden? Wasn't it supposed to be winter?

Astoria snickered.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"It's ready," said Sirius, showing the book to Harry. "Obscurus Books told me that one hundred thousand copies have been printed and according to their estimates, they'll need to print a million more to keep up with the demand for exports."

"You're kidding," said Harry, his eyebrows raised. "You think people abroad would want to read it?"

"The Founders of Hogwarts are rather famous, Harry," said Sirius with a shrug. "Witches and wizards abroad may not know anything about them, but they can be recognised, just like we know the more famous witches and wizards from around the world. The international magical community is closely linked."

"Nice," muttered Harry as he looked at the hardbound book in his hand.

 _THE FOUNDERS_

 _The Journal of Godric Gryffindor and a personal letter of Salazar Slytherin_

"Your letter to the readers has been printed in the forward and the observations you wanted to point out have also been printed along with the journal," said Sirius. "There is also a note saying that the proceeds would be used to help magical orphans. I must say, Harry, I was shocked when I read it. To think Salazar was nothing like what we thought he was ..."

"He still hated Muggles with a passion, Sirius," said Harry as he looked through the book. "He also mistrusted Muggle-borns, but he did not want them dead. I have also explained his position. Muggle-borns need to know where the prejudice comes from and the traditionist purebloods need to know that blind prejudice will not solve everything. It would also be a reminder to those _fools_ like Albus Dumbledore and Theseus Scamander who are pro-Muggle. War hero, my arse; you help Muggles in their stupid war which _they_ started and suddenly you are hailed as a war hero. If those fools who helped in the First World War had in any way breached the International Statute of Secrecy, the Muggles' infighting would have been the least of our problems. Bloody immature little gits couldn't understand that Minister Evermonde's emergency legislation was actually for the best. We're all lucky to be alive."

Sirius' lip twitched. "You would have been the picture-perfect heir of the Black family," he said wryly. "Mother would have killed to have you as her son."

"You turned out pretty well, Sirius, I doubt she would have much to complain about. Any luck with the locket?"

"No. I have searched every place I thought Regulus might have kept it, but no luck. All the Black homes have been searched and I went to Gringotts personally to check the Black family vault to see if he had kept it there before he died. I'm at a loss at what to do because I do not want to involve anyone at the Ministry about something so delicate. If Voldemort hears even a whisper about this ..."

"I know," said Harry as a flicker of emotion passed over his face.

"Anyway," said Sirius, standing up, "we have an appointment with the Department of Mysteries. Let's go."

Getting up, Harry walked out of the office of the Minister of Magic on Level One and the golden lifts took them to the floor of the Department of Mysteries. The place was deserted and their footsteps echoed on the polished floor. When they reached the door, Sirius pressed a rune and opened the door.

"You'll have to stick close to me," he said sternly. "Don't wander anywhere else because I would then be forced to _Obliviate_ you. Understood?"

"Yes, Godfather," replied Harry promptly.

They entered a reception area where they found a woman sitting at a desk. "Minister Black," she said respectfully. "Lord Potter will have to sign here please."

"Go on," said Sirius. After Harry signed the sheet of parchment, he was lead through a series of doors until they reached the Hall of Prophecies. Thousands of little spheres were sitting on stands and they walked until they reached Row 97.

Harry slowly picked up the glass sphere and tapped it with his wand. A mist was seen inside the sphere as the form of Sybill Trelawney spoke –

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_

Sirius bit his lip. "Well," he said slowly. "Things just got murkier."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The book on the Founders had been a sensation. Many people had bought the book out of sheer curiosity as they wanted to know what was so different in the book from what they knew of the Founders. But when they started reading, only then did they realise how they had been targeting the wrong man for more than a thousand years.

Most were astounded how caring Salazar Slytherin was, as described by Godric Gryffindor himself! There was also an outpouring of sympathy for Godric and Salazar as they realised that the Muggles had essentially destroyed their families. When they read Salazar's letter to his descendants, people were shocked, as here was proof that Harry Potter was indeed the descendant of the Founder. The boy's eyes and those of his deceased mother had always been unique and how else would he have gained access to the letter if he wasn't the heir? Blood magic could not be faked.

The final impact was Harry's words in the book, describing how the four witches and wizards had died. This had very much destabilised the preconceptions people had about the Founders and the stereotypes of the four Houses. How could Hufflepuffs be called duffers when the founder herself chose the path of a warrior when needed? It showed that while Rowena was extremely intelligent, she too was prone to heartbreak and died in misery. Salazar Slytherin, while cunning and ambitious, wasn't evil. He used those traits of his to _survive_ but he too was prone to make rash decisions. Godric's story proved that being a warrior wasn't always the best, as you're scarred for life. The book would have an enormous impact on the students of Hogwarts for generations to come, and the four Houses would, over time, be united, just as the Founders intended.

There was also another change in the minds of the general population. They remembered again how much they had suffered at the hands of Muggles. This book was proof that they had been very intolerant against anything magical. The fact that they had pushed Godric to such a level that he wiped out an entire village of Muggles was staggering. Very few felt sorry for those dead Muggles; they had brought it upon themselves and their punishment was just.

Hogwarts itself was a mess. Every time they entered Hogwarts, students of the other two schools could see students and teachers alike holding the book on the Founders, the white cover quite distinctive. Harry had noticed Dumbledore giving him speculative looks, but the Headmaster had surprisingly not called him for a meeting. He had expected it because the book clearly mentioned Voldemort's ancestry and also about the bloodline of Lily Evans. Harry had also tried to bring down the stigma attached to Parseltongue by supplying the true history of the language. Parseltongue was considered a very sacred language in Magical India where it originated, and it had spread throughout the world thousands of years ago. It was because of Herpo the Foul that the language of the serpents gained a negative stigma in Europe and Voldemort hadn't helped matters at all.

The winter session of the Wizengamot had proceeded smoothly, in Harry's opinion. He had revealed his position as Lord Slytherin to the Wizengamot but it hadn't been as bad as Harry had expected. The book had certainly taken care of any horrible reactions which the declaration would have caused. Some of the traditionalists who Harry knew were former Death Eaters questioned his claim, saying that it was fake. They were proven wrong by a unique test for family magic, confirmed both by the Department of Mysteries and Gringotts. They were certainly not happy, but they had no choice but to accept it. Harry had forwarded the documents to the Wizengamot Administration Services which made Lord Cyrus Greengrass the proxy for the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin.

At Hogwarts, many had been quite surprised by Harry's position as Lord Slytherin. Severus Snape had not even reacted to the news, but his response was more subtle. Even though the more direct insults had reduced since Harry had threatened the man at the beginning of last year, his snide remarks had not stopped. This time though, he completely ignored Harry in Potions class. Most of the Slytherins were happy because Harry was a regular at the Slytherin table and it also helped that Harry got along best with the Slytherins as compared to the other Houses. Some did not like it, not wanting to believe that the Dark Lord was not the Heir of Slytherin as he claimed, but there was nothing they could do. Harry wore the Slytherin family ring and his declaration had been verified.

The Hufflepuffs were smug in their knowledge that their Founder had stepped up to the role of a warrior when the situation dictated it, defeating a dark wizard and saving Hogwarts in the process.

The Ravenclaws were very united in their sympathy for both Rowena and Helena – after the latter had revealed herself and explained what had happened a thousand years ago.

The Gryffindors were divided. On one hand, the book showed how amazing Godric had truly been, proving to be a source of inspiration for many, but on the other hand, the fact that their Founder had slaughtered an entire village of Muggles after the said Muggles had brutally killed his wife and severely injured his daughter had been – not pleasant to read. Hermione Granger had been slack-jawed because everything she had believed in about Godric and Salazar had been proven false. Godric's hate and disgust of Muggles were quite clearly expressed in the book.

All in all, Harry was quite happy with it all. He had released Godric's journal to the masses and had claimed his position as Lord Slytherin without any bloodshed.

Hundreds of miles away, Lord Voldemort was seething.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: And we finally arrive at the book release and reactions of everyone. You may ask, with good reason, why people should believe the book. After all, Harry could have lied like Lockhart. Well, I would say that there could be a magical contract or an oath or a blood ritual which could prove that the journal and letter are authentic. I know that it would have been better if I had expanded the political part of the Slytherin Lordship instead of a summary, but unfortunately, I'm not that good at writing politics. Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	26. The Yule Ball

**_Chapter 26_**

 ** _The Yule Ball_**

Lord Voldemort seethed as he read the newspaper. The newly printed journal of Godric Gryffindor was sitting innocently on the table next to him.

 _Lily Potter had been the true descendant of Salazar Slytherin? His ancestor who had married the Gaunts had been the blood-adopted son of Salazar? Harry Potter had managed to bypass the blood ward at the Chamber of Secrets? The boy prophesied to kill him was now Lord Slytherin?_

His anger grew no bounds. Nagini slithered around him to calm him down, but it still frustrated him to no end. A sense of calm descended upon him. Six more months and it would all be over. After Harry Potter was dead, the Slytherin Lordship would fall to him as the next blood descendant. But he knew one thing for certain. He was going to torture Harry Potter _badly_ before he killed the boy.

"My Lord, I have more information on Harry Potter," said Rookwood, kneeling down. "I think you'll find this particularly interesting."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed as he listened to the report.

This was unexpected. He might have to tweak his plans for the future.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"You are going to start getting dressed _now_?" asked Neville, aghast.

"Neville's right," said Theo, looking stunned. "The ball is three hours away."

"We need that time to get ready," snapped Tracy, glaring at Theo as she and Susan went to their respective dormitories.

"Unbelievable," muttered Theo.

"Any idea who Draco is going with?" asked Dylan quietly.

"Pansy Parkinson," said Blaise in his usual monotonous tone, smirking slightly. "He was quite pissed off when Astoria said she already had a date. Nice job of asking her, by the way. The news spread throughout Slytherin House and some actually wanted to ask you tips on how to impress their dates. Surprising that they would want to ask a twelve-year-old boy for ideas."

Dylan blushed but smiled nevertheless. "I'll see you guys at the ball," he said and made his way to the Ravenclaw table. "Where are you going?"

"To get ready for the ball," replied Harry blandly.

"Harry, why do _you_ need three hours?" asked Dylan incredulously.

The older boy simply stared back, looking slightly bewildered. "I was told that every girl who was attending the ball had already gone to their dorms to get ready, and I figured Daphne might have done the same. As a good fiancé, I thought it was expected of me to help in any way I can."

Dylan snickered. "Even if she's in the shower?" he asked cheekily. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw a faint blush appear on Harry's cheeks. This was a spectacle he had never witnessed before. "Harry, are you blushing?"

"No," said Harry calmly, having regained control of his emotions. He did not want to reveal to his brother that lately, he had been having plenty of dreams of Daphne in the shower with him ... no, he wasn't about to confess that secret with the brat in front of him or anyone else for that matter.

Playfully ruffling Dylan's hair, Harry walked towards the Room of Requirement where he knew Daphne was. Doing his best to push the images of Daphne in the shower far away from his mind and adjusting his trousers, he paced three times in front of the blank wall and once the door appeared, he entered. What he saw took his breath away. Harry stood with his back to the wall, lips parted slightly as he observed the spectacle in front of him. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life. He watched his fiancée, a fond smile on his lips, love and respect shining in his eyes.

Daphne Greengrass was currently locked in a furious battle with five advanced duelling dummies, with the best the Room of Requirement could throw at her. Her usually styled hair was a mess with strands falling over her face. Her hand was a blur as she slashed her wand repeatedly, non-verbal curses and charms flowing easily from her wand, dancing around the incoming spells. While Daphne wasn't really that good at Transfiguration like her fiancé, she compensated that weakness with creative use of different Charms at her disposal. Similarly, Harry's weakness was that he found it difficult to fight in a closed environment. Battle Transfiguration at its best would be useful when it was an open area. However, both of them had a certain trait to their tactics which made them powerful duellists – both of them used their body movements to the best possible extent.

Daphne, a well-trained dancer for several years, was quite graceful on her feet as she used her moves to dodge the incoming spells, making her movements unpredictable to her enemy as she finished them off.

Harry, on the other hand, a student of martial arts, used his body to dodge the spells with the least amount of movements while he attacked in different directions, cutting off any room for escape.

Both of them relied heavily on acrobatics to win, their movements wide and powerful. The problem with both their tactics was that while their spell work was very aggressive, it was possible for them to tire quickly. To combat this weakness, Harry usually switched to dark, destructive curses in closed environments, his spells quick and straightforward.

Dylan, on the other hand, preferred a more balanced approach. He dodged too but didn't rely on acrobatics to win against his opponents. He preferred the method Amelia had taught him where he would use his opponent's weaknesses against them and take them out with precise movements. He defended himself against the assaults until he spotted their weaknesses and by this time, his opponents would tire themselves out, too weak to defend against the precise blows launched against them. This required observation skills, which Dylan had developed quite well under the careful eye of his aunt. This method was also what Albus Dumbledore employed.

There were other combat methods too. Voldemort, for example, always went on the offensive and due to the rituals he had done, he had enough power to constantly launch deadly attacks without fearing a drain on his magical core. His movements were too quick, unpredictable and random for the Dark Lord's enemies, making the duel quite one-sided. Very few stood a chance against him, which was why he was so highly feared.

Harry watched with a proud smile on his lips as Daphne managed to overcome the spells cast by the duelling dummies. Wanting to surprise her, he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and waited.

Daphne gracefully dodged the spell cast by the last practice dummy. A jet of white light flew from the tip of her wand and pretty soon, the dummy exploded into dust. A slow smirk formed on her lips as she observed the destruction around her. She had been practising on Level Four, which was a higher degree of lethal spells. Just as she wiped her face with a wet towel, she saw from the corner of her eye a spell coming towards her. Acting on instinct, she dropped the towel and flicked her wand at the spell. The incoming spell was caught at the tip of her wand and flung back at the caster.

"This won't work, Harry," said Daphne, smirking as Harry's Disillusionment Charm came unravelled. "Do you think I can't recognise your style?"

Harry smirked too. Circling each other like a pair of wolves, the couple assessed each other's strengths and weaknesses. Both their backs were erect, their breathing slow and even, eyes calm; their wands were ready and pointed at the other, their right foot edged forward and left arm raised slightly for balance. They were ready to attack.

Flashes of spellfire dominated the Room of Requirement as the room became smaller with every minute they duelled; with both of them relying on acrobatics and large areas to win, they had to practice duelling in a small room to get over that particular weakness. Ten minutes later, with both of them panting heavily, they stopped as they observed each other. Five seconds later, with surprising swiftness, Daphne conjured a powerful jet of water at Harry, just as Harry conjured fire. Due to the spells clashing together, the water evaporated, creating steam, making them unable to see the other. Spells were flying in all directions and there were grunts of pain and squeals of surprise. When the mist cleared, both were on the floor, with Daphne on top of her fiancé, grinning happily, their foreheads touching each other.

"I think this is the best duel we've had yet," breathed Harry, not able to look away from her, taking in every detail of her face. There were small cuts on Daphne's face, but he honestly didn't care. They would be healed, of course, but it somehow made him fall even more in love with her just by looking at her in this state.

"You must be the only boyfriend in the whole world who likes scars on his girlfriend's body," said Daphne as she bumped against him playfully.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" asked Harry in surprise.

"I'm your fiancée; I spend nearly all my time with you every day and have done so for three and a half years. After spending so much time with you, I don't need Legilimency to know what you're thinking."

Harry smiled faintly as he got up, pushing her off him. "You're crazy, you know that?" he said playfully, kissing her fingers delicately. "Instead of preparing for the ball like everyone else, you're here practising against the duelling dummies. Have I ever told you how much I admire you?"

Daphne shook her head slightly in fond exasperation. What did she have that made Harry respect her as much as he did? She looked up to him, yes, but that was because Harry was essentially her teacher! Sometimes, she would never understand what went on in that big brain of his. Kissing him sweetly on the lips, she got up. "Come on, get up. We need to take a shower and get ready for the ball."

Harry's cheeks tinted pink as he watched the Room shimmer around them. A bathroom with two doors formed around them; he watched Daphne open one of the doors and enter. His heart began beating faster as he imagined Daphne in the bathroom. While it was true that she had seen him nude before, he had never seen her without sufficient clothes on. He had several dreams of her in that state, of course, but the fact that she was so close ...

The magical shower activated as soon as he entered the bathroom, simulating rain. Harry sighed in relief as the hot water soothed his aching muscles. After a long, relaxing shower, he wandlessly cast a drying charm on himself, making the droplets of water disappear. With another casual wave of his hand, he unlocked the door and stepped out into the dressing room conjured by the Room of Requirement. His heartbeat quickened again and heat rushed to his face.

Daphne was standing at a dressing table in front of a large mirror, wrapped only in a white fluffy towel that extended to her mid-thigh. Even from the side, Harry could see the curves of her breasts and the rest of her body. He tried his best not to stare, but he was transported to another world. His eyes were glazed and lips parted slightly in admiration. Unsurprisingly, his cock was erect.

"Harry! HARRY!"

"Huh?" asked Harry, snapping out of his musings as he saw the blushing face of his fiancée.

"I asked if – ahem – never mind," muttered Daphne, turning back to style her hair, her face still pink. She breathed deeply, trying to push the images of Harry standing naked in the room out of her mind. Spending day after day with Harry and Dylan over the past year and a half ensured that she was used to seeing them nude, but that didn't mean her fiancé's presence didn't affect her every time. She was highly tempted to pin him against the wall and ravish him all night.

Harry cleared his throat as he walked over to her. Daphne's attire for the evening was a dark wine red coloured sleeveless knee-length dress which had beautiful silver embroidery and patterns. The lower part of the dress was flowing with multiple fabrics that ended just before the knees.

"I got these for you," said Harry softly as he passed a large velvet box to her.

Daphne opened it and smiled. "You didn't have to do this, you know," she said sincerely.

"You're my fiancée, Daphne. You're already family, so any jewellery of the Potters is already yours. This actually belonged to my mother. Here, let me help you."

Once she was dressed, she checked herself in the mirror. Her makeup was perfectly done; her dress looked really good and the diamond necklace studded with rubies was glinting from her neck. Matching earrings and bracelets were glinting from her ears and hands, completing the effect. A small tiara held her hair which flowed elegantly to the middle of her back.

"You look beautiful."

"You're the best, Harry," said Daphne, giving him a tight hug. Harry hugged her back, his arms around her waist as he smelled her perfume. A small, happy smile tugged his lips as he felt content, lost to the world.

 _Paradise._

"Where are your clothes?"

"Right here."

Once he finished getting dressed, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a white shirt, a deep wine red vest and tie, perfectly matching Daphne's dress. He donned his trousers and robes over himself and ensured he looked fine. Once he was finished, he turned to look at Daphne.

"What do you think?" he asked her. "I think it looks better than dragon hide."

"Definitely," observed Daphne. "Trousers and robes made of shed Basilisk skin; you really have good taste, Harry. It actually looks like very expensive leather. Nothing scaly like what I thought it would be. It looks rich and elegant; I approve."

"Thanks," muttered Harry as he looked at the mirror again. The robes looked black in colour, but under certain lighting conditions, it would look a deep shade of blackish-green. He had given the material to a well-known fashion designer in France on the recommendation of Jacen Twilfit. The witch had been shocked when she had seen the Basilisk skin but had done the work without complaint and her talent showed. Once they were ready, he and Daphne left the Room of Requirement to head to the Great Hall.

"You never actually told me about your conversation with Fleur," said Harry lightly.

"That's because you never asked," said Daphne.

After a few seconds, he raised an eyebrow at her. Daphne shrugged. "You were right in that she felt attracted to you because you were powerful and could resist her allure. I told her that you and I share something special and she backed off. She's not what I envisioned, actually. After you spend more time with her, you'll see that she has a mask in place. We talked for a while and realised we had similar interests, though I could do without the constant bragging of her school."

Just walked into the entrance hall, they saw Dylan and Astoria emerge from the dungeons. Dylan was dressed in the dress robes he and Harry had bought in Hogsmeade and Astoria was wearing a purple dress.

"Looking good, Tori," said Harry with a teasing smile on his face. "Oh, I guess you too, brat."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the compliment, egghead," he said wryly. "What are you wearing? Dragonhide?"

"Basilisk skin," Harry smirked. "Like it? I've already commissioned one for you."

Dylan blinked his eyes a few times. "It looks really good," he said slowly. "But I have to say it is nothing like what I expected; not scaly at all."

"That's what I said," said Daphne, nodding.

After a minute, the couple was joined by Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies. When Victor Krum and his date arrived, Harry was surprised; he had certainly not expected _that_. He wasn't going to let his personal issues get in the way, but hopefully, he would be able to avoid her for the rest of the night.

If Daphne was surprised at seeing Hermione Granger there she certainly didn't react to it. When it was time, Professor McGonagall ushered everyone but the champions inside the Great Hall. When the clock struck seven, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the four couples walked in; Cedric and Cho first, followed by Victor and Hermione, then walked in Fleur and Roger Davies and finally, Harry and Daphne.

The Great Hall was beautifully decorated, and it had also been magically expanded to three times its size, so was very large. Along with the heads of the three schools, there were also heads of several different magical governments present, along with the Triwizard Committee and other members of the International Confederation of Wizards. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were hundreds of smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

When Harry caught his godfather's eye, Sirius winked at him and smirked. Harry's cheeks turned slightly pink but he was able to regain control soon, making Sirius chuckle; the teenager obviously still remembered the _talk_ they had the past summer. As they neared the table reserved for the champions and other important people, they all sat down for dinner. The Great Hall was abuzz with chatter as people began ordering food using the menu cards. Harry had to give it to Dumbledore; this arrangement for dinner was much better in his opinion.

At the champion's table, Hermione and Victor were talking about their respective schools, but Harry couldn't hear the rest. It didn't matter though because he and Daphne stuck to Sirius and Amelia the whole time as they spoke to very important politicians and I.C.W. officials from around the world. Even Albus Dumbledore, as Supreme Mugwump, took to introducing Harry to various officials who wanted to meet the famous Boy-Who-Lived. An hour later, everyone had finished dinner, so Dumbledore vanished most of the round tables in the Hall, leaving only those in the corner which now served drinks and desserts. As the champions moved towards the middle of the Hall, Daphne noticed that even though they had been invited, there were only a few dozen students from the first to third years; it looked like most of them had gone home for the holidays.

Just as the band began playing music for the champions, Harry put one hand on Daphne's waist, the other holding her hand. Staring into each other's eyes, Harry remembered just three years ago when he and Daphne were in a similar position, with her teaching him how to dance in an abandoned classroom. Their relationship had deepened since then, transforming from being acquaintances to friends, to best friends and now to be the love of each other's life.

Daphne could see the fire that was burning in those emerald green orbs and it made her heart flutter. His grip tightened around her waist as they glided around the dance floor, enjoying themselves. Several couples too joined them and pretty soon, the ball was in full swing.

Harry and Daphne had not uttered a word since they had begun dancing. Their eyes were locked at each other's, their faces getting impossibly close as they danced. Over the last three years and because of the many balls that Harry had to attend, he had learnt more dancing styles from Daphne. It helped because Daphne was a trained dancer, having been instructed by a teacher since the age of four. Harry spun her around and dipped Daphne in full view of everyone, his lips just barely touching hers. Leaning down slowly, he kissed her softly but with full of love, just as Daphne reciprocated.

After an hour, the couple was tired and breathing hard so they made their way to the drinks counter. Harry wandlessly cast a cooling charm on them both to get more comfortable.

"Here you go," said Harry as he passed her a glass of Madam Rosmerta's finest mead, another glass which he was holding for himself.

"Where's mine?" asked Dylan as he sat down, gasping for breath.

"You're twelve, brat, you don't get to drink mead," said Harry, his lips twitching in amusement as he took a sip. "This is for fourteen and older. There are other stronger ones at the table, but I'm not old enough for those."

"Weren't you the one who said alcohol doesn't affect witches and wizards all that much?" protested Dylan. "Besides, I've seen you drink something worse when you were thirteen!"

"And have you forgotten Aunt Amelia shouting at me for half an hour and grounding me for a week for getting drunk? I never want to see the dungeons of Black Castle again in my life!"

"What?" said Daphne sharply. "This is the first I've heard of this incident!"

"Good going, little brother," said Harry sarcastically. "And for that, you won't get the glass of mead from me."

"It's fine, Dylan," said Astoria, patting his arm. "You can get us butterbeer instead."

"Oh, alright," Dylan grumbled. Harry winked at the girls as he followed Dylan, disappearing in the crowds.

"So, how was the dance with Dylan?" asked Daphne, sipping from her glass.

"Yeah, about that," said Astoria slowly. "How in Merlin's name can he dance so well? I actually came prepared by applying numbing charms on my toes."

"He has been practising for a month just to impress you, using all those spells which can help him learn faster," said Daphne as she smiled slightly. "Harry's been teaching him."

"Oh, that explains it," Astoria chuckled.

Just before she could say anything, Daphne was interrupted. "May I have this dance?"

She just glared at the boy. "If either one of you pranks me again, I'll break your legs and ensure you can't walk for the rest of your lives," she snarled as she got up, accepting the boy's extended hand.

"Daphne, you wound us!" exclaimed Fred, holding his hand over his heart.

"Yeah, we would never prank you!" said George looking indignant.

"Oh, please," muttered Daphne, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she was steered away by George. "Save it for someone who believes you two reprobates. Just keep those puking pastilles away from me and you'll return to your beds alive."

Astoria giggled in amusement when she saw Fred wink at her, mouthing 'prank'. Oh, Daphne was going to kill those two someday. Before she could look for her date, Draco Malfoy made his way over to her.

"May I have this dance, Astoria?" he asked politely.

"Of course, Draco," said Astoria, smiling at him. As he steered her away, Dylan came over with two butterbeers in hand, searching for her. When he spotted her, his head drooped slightly as he returned the drinks and tried to find his way out, only to be stopped by Harry.

"Let's take a walk," he muttered. Wrapping an arm around the younger boy's shoulders, Harry led them outside. "You can't stop her from dancing with other boys, you know."

"I wasn't trying to," said Dylan quietly.

"You're scared that Tori would think Draco is better than you," said Harry knowingly.

"Well, he is taller."

"Because he is two years older than you," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "What did you expect? Dylan, you're only twelve. It's not like you are short for your age; far from it, but even if you were, why should that matter at all? You are a good person and you shouldn't let anything else define you. You have come a long way since I met you, so don't go back to square one. You are one of the sweetest boys I have ever met in my life, little brother, and I know that Tori likes you too. Stay calm, mate. It's not like she abandoned you! She was asked to dance when you were not there and she accepted. Daphne is currently dancing with Fred and George, isn't she? It's a ball, it happens."

"Thanks, Harry," said Dylan with a hint of a smile.

"Anytime, brat," said Harry teasingly. "Now come on. Let's get back inside."

"Egghead," muttered Dylan.

"Moron," fired Harry.

"Jackass!"

"Dimwit!"

"Nitwit!"

"Nincompoop!"

"That's the same thing! Wait, is it?"

"Who cares? Brat!"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The Great Hall cleared out after several hours, with the ball finally ending at two in the morning. Those who remained after midnight were mostly couples who were slow dancing. That was certainly something Harry enjoyed. Dylan and Astoria had headed back to their dorms sometime before midnight as they were too sleepy. When it finally ended, Harry and Daphne dragged themselves to the Room of Requirement. Reconfiguring a room, they undressed and Daphne carefully put the jewellery back in its case. Once done, they collapsed on the large bed.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Harry," said Daphne sleepily, smiling as Harry kissed her neck.

"You're welcome," he muttered into her ear. "Good night, Daphne. I love you."

"Love you too."

They were out like a light as sleep caught up to them, wrapped tightly in each other's arms.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Try it now," said the ghost of Alfred Potter, looking at Harry speculatively. "Remember, don't crush it this time, but chop it finely. Let's see if this technique works."

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath as he stirred the potion in the small cauldron. Chopping the Gillyweed, he dropped it in the cauldron, waiting with bated breath. After ten seconds, the cauldron exploded, the shields holding tight as it contained the spill.

"Well, that was my twenty-fifth attempt, not counting the initial stages," said Harry, his face impassive, but his eyes a darker shade, showing how frustrated he was. "That's more than fifty cauldrons I've blown up. Maybe I should just go with the regular Gillyweed or Bubblehead Charm and be done with it."

"Now, now, Harry," said Alfred, floating towards the boy, peering at the various sheets of parchment which contained Harry's notes in his distinctive neat handwriting. "This project is a very good idea. Don't give up."

"But you have to admit I'm doing something wrong, Grandfather," muttered Harry. "I guess this is why witches and wizards don't attempt to create a potion until they have finished their Master's degree."

"Maybe you should consult a potions master," said Alfred. "I'm sure they could help you."

"But who can I ask?" wondered Harry. After thinking for several minutes, his eyes lit up. Scrambling to the Floo, he called Sirius. This potions master would be willing to listen if the Minister of Magic himself called him to help Harry. Besides, going by his mother's journal and Voldemort's memories, the man was a genius when it came to Potions, not to mention was one of the most highly qualified in Europe.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Oh ho!" cried Horace Slughorn as he looked at Harry's notes jovially. "This is certainly ambitious! An amphibian potion, you say?"

"Yes, Professor," said Harry calmly. "The second task of the Triwizard Tournament will be held underwater. I know the Bubblehead Charm, but it doesn't help with manoeuvrability. The Gillyweed is an alternative, but it only lasts for an hour, not to mention hinders my grip with a wand. I started working on this potion the day after the first task when I figured out what was to be done. Nearly a month and a half have passed. I have rechecked my Arithmancy formulae and changed the stages of the ingredients, but nothing works! I have already blown up fifty cauldrons in the process, so I thought I should consult an expert on the subject instead of giving up as a lost cause."

"There will be no talk about giving up in front of me, Harry, my boy," said Slughorn, waving a stubby finger. "Let's see where you went wrong, shall we? Let's start with the ingredients and properties and then we'll move on to the mathematical application of the potion."

And so it began. Harry spent all of what was remaining of the Yule holidays with Professor Slughorn as they worked on the potion. Harry was enthralled by the knowledge the old wizard was sharing with him. The Potions Master would also tell funny stories about his students from his teaching days, focussing mainly on Lily, Harry's mother. Finally, on the last day before going to Hogwarts, they were once more working on the potion, which they felt would be successful.

"The mathematical calculation checks out," said Slughorn, looking at the sheet of parchment. "Now, try that again, Harry. There should be no chunks in it at all – pure liquid."

Harry nodded as he pureed the Gillyweed into liquid form, adding saltwater to dilute it. Once done, he poured seven drops into the cauldron, stirred clockwise one and five times counter-clockwise. He repeated the process three more times before casting spells on the cauldron.

"It is done," said Harry with a smile. "The potion looks exactly what the formula said it would and everything else checks out."

"It still needs testing," said Slughorn, looking a bit worried. "Maybe –"

"Don't worry, Professor," said Harry with a small smile on his face, barely able to hide his happiness. "I'll be very careful and run the proper simulations before going through with it. I can't believe I actually reached this stage!"

"Indeed, my boy!" said Slughorn, beaming. "If I may say so, Lily would have been proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry sincerely. Putting his hand inside his robes, he removed a small, but thick glass phial containing black liquid.

"Please accept this as a token of appreciation for your efforts, Professor," said Harry with a smile. "This is undiluted Basilisk venom; the best you can find anywhere in the world."

"Oh, Merlin!" breathed Slughorn as he accepted it. "I can't believe it! This is near priceless in the market. Thank you, Harry."

"No, Professor," said Harry, shaking his head. "Thank you. I would never have been able to do this without you. I hope I can apprentice under you after my N.E.W.T.s are done. You are an outstanding teacher and I would be honoured to learn from you."

Slughorn beamed as he nodded.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Dylan Lestrange was walking towards Ravenclaw Tower after his last class in the middle of the afternoon. It was a week after they had returned to school and he couldn't stop but wonder what Harry was up to. Throughout the holidays, he had been busy doing something secretive while Dylan spent the holidays at Black Manor. Daphne was oblivious to it as the Greengrasses had gone abroad during that time for a family vacation. Just as he was about to turn towards the tower, someone grabbed him by the arm and yanked him towards a classroom. Immediately flicking his wand out of his holster, he pointed it at his attacker, only to be surprised to find who it was.

"Harry? What's up?" asked Dylan as he returned the wand to his holster.

"I need your help," muttered Harry as he led them towards the Room of Requirement. He paced three times in front of the wall until the door appeared. When they entered, Dylan found himself standing next to a large swimming pool.

"You need my help to swim?" asked Dylan confused. "Harry, _you_ were the one to teach _me_ how to swim."

Harry rolled his eyes as he expanded his trunk next to the pool. Removing everything required, he began explaining.

"The second task of the Triwizard Tournament involves me having to rescue someone I miss the most," said Harry, "so that is going to be either you or Daphne. Anyway, it's going to be held underwater, in the Black Lake to be specific, so I'll need something to help me move and breathe. That's why I invented a potion which would help me."

"You _invented_ a potion on your own?" asked Dylan, looking impressed.

"Well, I did have a potions master help me sort out the more delicate matters, but in essence, yes," said Harry. "This is what I had been doing during the holidays. I've been working on this since the day I got that golden egg from the first task."

"What do you want me to do?

"I need you to monitor me while I drink the potion," explained Harry. "If something goes wrong, take me to Madam Pomfrey, okay?"

"Goes wrong?" said Dylan, panicking. "Harry –"

"Please, Dylan?" said Harry softly. "Look, I know you're worried, but it checks out! The potions master verified it and said it was perfect, but I won't know until I actually use it."

"Why don't you let me take the potion instead?" asked Dylan desperately.

"Absolutely not," snapped Harry. "I'm not going to risk something happening to you. So, are you willing to help me or not?"

Dylan sighed as he nodded.

"Thanks, little brother; I knew I could count on you. I'll put a bubblehead charm on you so that you can monitor what's going on. This pool is about ten feet deep and has underwater obstacles for me to practice. We'll also keep a timer so that we know how long we can pull it off."

"How long are the effects supposed to last?" asked Dylan curiously.

"Well," answered Harry as they stripped, "I based it off an amphibian, so the effects should wear off a few seconds after I come out of the water. After I take the potion, there should be no limit on the time; at least, that's what it is supposed to do. As I said, mathematically, it checks out, but practically ... it remains to be seen."

Once they were both naked, they stepped into the shallow part of the pool. Harry flicked his wand at Dylan's head and the Bubblehead Charm took effect. Carefully taking the potion which was stored in a hip flask, Harry raised it.

"Cheers," he said quietly as he drank the potion.

Dylan was looking at his brother worriedly. A few seconds later, Harry began gasping for air as he dived underwater. Dylan too plunged his head into the water, hoping that it would all work out. Harry's legs transformed to make it look like it had properties of webbed feet. His hands were free for him to use. Gills formed on his neck making it easier for him to breathe. Once the pain stopped, he found Dylan next to him, looking relieved that the potion had worked. Showing him a thumbs up, they swam over to the deep side of the pool where they had the underwater obstacle course. Not wanting to miss out on another opportunity to train with Harry, Dylan flicked his wand to his hand and started firing spells at the targets.

Three hours later, they emerged from the pool, Harry gasping for air when his head came out of the water. After about five seconds of discomfort, he began breathing normal air, sitting at the side of the pool with a happy grin on his face.

"I did it," he whispered happily, grabbing his brother in a wet hug. "I actually did it."

"Of course you did," said Dylan, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Nothing is impossible for the great Harry Potter."

Harry laughed as he summoned towels and clothes towards them. As they got dressed, Dylan asked, "Why don't you go explore the Black Lake? It would give you a better idea of what you are facing."

"I can't," said Harry, sounding annoyed. "I tried that two days ago, but there are barriers in place and I don't want to get into trouble by trying to breach them, especially considering my unique entry into the tournament. The Triwizard Committee doesn't want anyone, champion or not, anywhere near the Black Lake. I assume they are preparing it for the task."

"Hmm ..." said Dylan, rubbing his chin. "If you can't practice here, the lake on the grounds of Potter Castle would have to do."

"Exactly," Harry grinned. "You better get up at five in the morning, brat. You'll be coming home with me every day."

"I should have seen that coming; me and my big mouth."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Okay, I'm confused," muttered Dylan. "Why do they want both of us?"

Daphne nodded in agreement, curious and confused at the same time. They walked to McGonagall's office which was packed with people. The Head of the Triwizard Committee was explaining from a sheet of parchment to those present – there was Sirius Black, the Minister of Magic; Lord Cyrus Greengrass, Madam Maxime, a man who looked French who Daphne guessed to be Fleur's father, Fleur's sister Gabrielle, another Beauxbatons student, Hermione Granger, a Durmstrang student and teacher, Cho Chang and one of the sixth year Hufflepuffs.

"Ah, Miss Greengrass, Mr Lestrange," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "You're finally here. Let us begin, shall we?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we need two hostages for each champion to take part in the second task tomorrow. I assure everyone present that the strictest safety measures have been taken to ensure that none of you is put in danger. I must tell you now that it is imperative that we have two hostages as they are essential for the task. If any of you wishes to not participate, feel free to do so, but please let us know immediately so that we can choose an alternative hostage."

" _Two_ hostages?" asked Daphne, frowning slightly. "I was under the impression that there was only one hostage."

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore with a smile. "I was quite impressed with the riddle myself. Did it actually _say_ there was going to be only one?"

"Well ... no," said Dylan, thinking hard. "But you will tell them about the two hostage situation, right?"

"Just before the task, yes," said the Head of the Triwizard Committee.

"I'm still not sure about the safety issue," said Cyrus Greengrass. Sirius nodded grimly.

"The Triwizard Emergency Squad would be present throughout the duration of the task, Lord Greengrass," said the wizard briskly. "If any issue gets out of hand, they're more than qualified to take care of it."

An hour later, Daphne and Dylan, along with six others were put in suspended animation. Early the next morning, they would be transported to the bottom of the Black Lake.


	27. The Second Task

**_Chapter 27_**

 ** _The Second Task_**

Harry tossed and turned in his bed; he couldn't sleep! Having Daphne down there in the Black Lake was bad enough, but his brother too? Why did they need two hostages? Sirius had informed him immediately after the meeting about the changes. Not being able to go to sleep, he finally got up from the bed at dawn, pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for his morning run.

Two hours later, he returned to the Room of Requirement, tired but feeling a lot better. Visualising a bathtub, he let his aching muscles relax as he slipped into the hot water. Half an hour later, he called for a house-elf who provided him with breakfast. Once done, he checked his surrounding to ensure everything was ready, including the hip flask containing the Amphibian Potion. He shucked off all his clothes and put on a pair of tight emerald green swim trunks which he had specifically bought for the task. Wearing a robe to cover himself, he exited the room with everything he needed.

Harry calmly walked across the grounds to one of the boats which led to the judges' podium that was constructed in the middle of the Black Lake. He could see several stands all around the lake and the tens of thousands of people who had come to watch the task. Miller's Mirrors were placed everywhere so that they could watch the champions' progress up close. Harry walked up to where the other champions were standing and flicked his wand to conjure an armchair for himself. He sat down and closed his eyes to centre himself. He needed to focus; he couldn't let his emotions take control of him at such a crucial moment.

Fifteen minutes later, they heard a cannon blast as Lodo Bagman ascended up to the corner of the podium. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, his voice booming. "Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. All our champions seem to have solved the puzzle of the egg and arrived at the clue given with it. Now, something precious has been taken from each of them and they have two hours to retrieve their hostages. Starting with Cedric Diggory, his hostages are Miss Cho Chang and Mr Joshua Hopkins; Viktor Krum is to rescue Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Abelard Muller; Fleur Delacour's hostages are Miss Gabrielle Delacour and Miss Abella Moreau; and finally, Harry Potter is to rescue Miss Daphne Greengrass and Mr Dylan Lestrange. Champions, get ready!"

Harry removed his robe and gave it to his godfather who was standing behind him.

"Good luck, Harry," whispered Sirius, sounding worried. "Do your best, but don't go looking for danger."

"My brother and fiancée are down there," said Harry flatly. There was no question in his mind that he would do everything possible to rescue them from under the lake.

He took the hip flask from Sirius and waited. When there were just a few seconds left, he drowned the potion; the cannon blast signified that the task had started. Already gasping for breath, Harry dived into the lake, soothing his newly formed gills.

" _Lumos!_ "

A bright ball of light appeared at the tip of his wand as he swam forward. He only had to concentrate on the tracking charm located on both Daphne and Dylan's lockets which were tied to the locket he himself had around his neck. He had no idea how the other champions were supposed to find their hostages, but he did not care to find out.

"Both Miss Delacour and Mr Diggory seem to have used the Bubblehead Charm," Mr Bagman commented. "Mr Krum has done a remarkable piece of Transfiguration on himself, turning himself into half-shark. As a world-renowned expert on Transfiguration, I'd like your views on this, Professor Dumbledore. Mr Potter is the mystery because I saw him drink some sort of potion, though what, I'm not sure – oh, of course, Master Slughorn, go ahead – an Amphibian potion? You mean he invented a potion himself? At the age of fourteen? Incredible! Do tell me more!"

Down in the lake, Harry was swimming towards one of his targets when he encountered an illusionary ward. Scanning it, Harry was impressed. It gave off a feeling as though whatever was on the other side would be a tunnel leading him to one of the hostages and if anyone crossed it, it would create a whirlpool, swallowing them. If not for his advanced Occlumency, he would have fallen victim to the ward himself. He tried to avoid it and swim in the other direction, but the trap had been designed very well. He could not avoid it. Ten minutes of trial and error later, Harry disabled the ward and went on his way.

A few minutes later, Harry frowned when he encountered something he couldn't exactly identify. It was a concealment ward, but it was poorly designed. Suddenly, his senses were on alert and just as he turned, he was attacked by a horde of Grindylows. There were too many of them and they were clawing their way through his skin. Harry's eyes darkened in anger as he blasted several of them to smithereens; the concealment ward was merely a ruse to draw the champions' attention away from the Grindylows. The water demons realised that he was not prey and backed off. Cursing himself for not anticipating an attack, Harry hastily applied what little of healing charms he knew to seal the cuts on his body. Once done, he swam towards his target.

"Both Mr Potter and Mr Diggory have managed to defeat their Grindylows!" shouted Bagman. "Mr Potter has once again displayed his talent in ward-breaking! One hour and thirty minutes to go!"

There! He could see it from here. Conjuring a Patronus, he used the thunderbird to provide light as he realised that this hostage was Dylan. Dispelling the Patronus, he used a severing charm on the ropes binding his brother, put an arm around the younger boy's waist and began swimming towards the surface. Suddenly, Harry saw a movement from the corner of his eye. Turning around, it took all his willpower not to scream. In front of him was a _massive_ snake, slithering around in the water. It came towards him, opening its mouth wide.

" _Stop! I mean you no harm!"_ Harry said impulsively. Bubbles sprouted from his lips, but he could detect the hissing sound, even underwater. This was a surprise! The Amphibian potion must have given him the power of speech underwater as well! He would have to investigate this in depth later.

" _A speaker!"_ hissed the sea serpent in surprise. " _I have never met one of your kind before. I did not mean to startle you, young speaker. I wanted to eat the fish behind you."_

Harry could have laughed if he were not annoyed at the fact that in his moment of panic, he had forgotten that sea serpents do not attack humans. But it was hardly his fault! Anyone who had faced a seventy-foot long Basilisk would feel the same way. Nodding to the massive snake, Harry used an _Aguamenti_ charm to propel himself and Dylan towards the surface. When he was close enough, he let Dylan ascend while he remained underwater.

Just as Dylan's face emerged from the water, he gasped, desperately trying to breathe. He panicked when he realised something was supporting him underwater, but a quick look made him calm down; it was only Harry. Smiling at his brother, he reached down to pat him on the head and swam towards the podium in the middle of the lake, while Harry returned to the depths of the lake to rescue Daphne.

"Look at that!" shouted Bagman as people in the stands cheered loudly. "Harry Potter was the first to reach one of his hostages. Dylan Lestrange has been rescued and he now has to find Daphne Greengrass to finish the task!"

Harry went back to searching for Daphne, letting the tracking charm guide him. Every few minutes, he encountered more wards, traps, and concealment charms; they weren't too difficult to crack but were time-consuming. Moving forward towards the Merpeople's colony, Harry suddenly felt something move rapidly towards him. Turning around, he saw claws just inches from his neck. Kappa! Bloody hell! He could have been strangled to death if he had not been careful!

Firing a jet of boiling hot water at the creatures, he continued on his journey.

"All four champions have managed to rescue one of their hostages!" yelled Ludo Bagman amidst cheers. "One hour down and another to go!"

Harry entered the Merpeople's colony, deep in the lake, and began looking for Daphne. A minute later, he saw her on the other side of the colony, guarded by merpeople. As he was about to cut the ropes, he saw something that made him pause.

"Miss Delacour seems to have been attacked by Grindylows!" said Bagman. "It appears she is unable to continue the task."

"Wait, what's that? Sweet Merlin, send the Emergency Squad immediately! Cedric Diggory has been tricked by the Kelpie!"

 _Was that a Kelpie?_ Harry swam towards Cedric who seemed to be riding some kind of horse. It was going lower towards the lake bed. If they reached the bed, then Cedric was doomed as the only thing remaining would be his body parts. Acting on instinct, Harry conjured a bridle and used a Placement Charm to place it over the Kelpie's head. The effect was immediate. The Kelpie stopped moving, looking confused for a moment and Cedric yelped as he leapt off the creature's back.

"Mr Potter has rendered the Kelpie docile!" shouted Bagman. "Cedric Diggory is no longer in danger! Harry Potter is now moving towards his hostage. Well, well, this is certainly interesting, isn't it?"

Cutting the ropes, Harry wrapped an arm around Daphne's waist, pulling the girl up with him. The task was nearly over. Just about thirty feet more and the second task would be done with. That thought had to be put on hold when Harry saw two dozen or more Grindylows surrounding him. They attacked him and Daphne again, clawing at their skin, cutting off any room for escape. Harry was bleeding rapidly from the wounds as he tried to fight back, but his wand arm was injured as well. Snarling in anger, he wandlessly cast a blasting curse at those to the left while, with great effort, cast another blasting curse from his wand.

Leaving the dead and destroyed Grindylows behind, Harry and Daphne surfaced, both of them gasping for air. Daphne winced in pain when she realised that she was injured. Blood was pouring from her wounds as she and Harry swam towards the podium.

"He's done it!" shouted Bagman amidst thunderous applause and cheers. "Mr Potter is the first to resurface with both his hostages well before the time limit!"

Helped by Sirius and Cyrus, the two of them managed to get onto the podium. Harry didn't even twitch or wince in pain, his face impassive as always, but Daphne couldn't help but grimace. She thought her cuts were bad but that was nothing as compared to Harry's!

Once a few spells were cast by the student-healer stationed there, their wounds were sealed, and the two were quickly ushered into the medical tent that had been erected for the champions and the hostages. There were several privacy screens in place and the couple quickly searched for the cubicle that had –

"Dylan!" exclaimed Daphne worriedly, rushing towards the boy who was lying down on the bed, giving him a quick hug. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a few scratches," he answered. "What about you two?"

"Fine," Harry murmured. His face scrunched up in discomfort due to wearing the torn, dirty and wet garment; a moment later, he shucked off his swim trunks and for a good measure, vanished the offending article of clothing.

He turned to his left and saw two pairs of amused eyes looking at him.

"What?"

Daphne and Dylan couldn't help but laugh. "What is it with you and wet clothes?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Even after you cast a drying charm, you still try to get rid of them as the earliest opportunity!"

Harry simply huffed. "I just don't like the feeling of wet clothes sticking to my body, that's all!"

"I'm actually surprised he wore those swim trunks at all," Dylan snickered, grinning mischievously and slapping Harry's toned stomach with the back of his hand. "In the time I've known you, I've never even seen one of those in your wardrobe. You _always_ swim in the nude, Harry, what changed?"

Harry dived to land a smack at the back of his brother's head when they were interrupted by the school's resident healer.

"Break it up, you two!" said Madam Pomfrey crossly. "Mr Lestrange, didn't I expressly tell you to rest?"

"I _am_ resting," said Dylan innocently. "I'm lying down on the bed and everything! You know I would never disregard your orders, right, Madam Pomfrey? And I'm hurt that you would suspect your favourite patient of wrongdoing when the real culprit is my moronic brother."

"Hey!"

Madam Pomfrey kept muttering under her breath as she scanned the newly arrived couple with her wand. Harry could make out a few words like 'hate dealing with' and 'siblings' and 'Weasleys twins'.

Harry was offended. He and Dylan were _not_ as bad as the Weasley twins!

"I've healed all your injuries," she told them a few minutes later. "But don't overexert yourselves for the next day or two. Come meet me if you feel unwell."

With a final glare at the cheeky Lestrange scion, the matron left. The three of them were just about to resume their conversation when a girl with brown hair entered their cubicle. She took one look at Harry who was standing next to his fiancée, arms crossed over his chest, completely unconcerned by his lack of clothing, and her eyes widened.

"Hey, Astoria," he smiled. "Come on in."

" _Eeepp_!"

Astoria Greengrass dashed out of the cubicle, her face scarlet.

Harry turned to his fiancée and brother in confusion. "What just happened?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You're naked, idiot," she said wryly. "What did you think would happen, with your genitals on display for all to see?"

" … Oh."

Dylan snorted. "You're clueless, as always, egghead. Your fan club is going to have new posters for their rooms. They now have unlimited access to the Boy-Who-Lived clad in nothing but a pair of swim trunks."

"At least he was wearing swim trunks. I really believed he would come wearing nothing at all! It wouldn't have surprised me, if he had," piped in Daphne, grinning at her spluttering fiancé.

"I wouldn't do that," Harry protested weakly, unable to deny the fact that that had been his initial plan. Why anyone wanted to wear clothes while swimming baffled him entirely! "I hardly think coming to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament like that would be good for me! I mean, the entire world is watching!"

"Yeah, it would make the headlines, alright," she smirked. "Boy-Who-Lived bares all!"

"Triwizard Tournament turns into a _Tristreaking_ Tournament," Dylan added, grinning wickedly. "I'm sure it would cater to a larger audience with your cock and balls on display. It's still not too late, you know. All you have to do is walk out of this tent!"

"Are you two done?" said Harry in exasperation as they snickered.

Donning a pair of fresh clothes that a Hogwarts house-elf had brought for each of them, they walked outside and waited for the scores. Fleur was awarded thirty points, Cedric forty-five points, Krum forty points and Harry was awarded full fifty points.

"You're in the lead!" Dylan cried excitedly, giving his older brother a tight hug. "You're going to win this thing, I know it!"

Harry smirked. Yes, he would win. They still hadn't figured out who was behind putting his name in the Goblet of Fire, but eventually, someone would slip; and when they did, Harry would take care of them. Whoever was responsible was a dead man walking.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"– Moody's involvement in the Auror Academy is working wonders," said Amelia as she continued with her report. "The quality of the Aurors has increased notably and because of the new incentives, more young witches and wizards are joining the Auror corps."

"Good," said Sirius, as he looked through the several files on his desk, which contained more reports from other departments of the Ministry of Magic. "I don't want us to crumble like we did the last time. Bagnold should have nipped things in the bud when Voldemort started rising, but with most of his Death Eaters being prominent members in the Ministry or the Wizengamot, she took all the wrong decisions. Crouch's tactics came too late and they did more harm than good. If any dark witch or wizard rises again, I want to finish him or her before it gets out of hand."

"Give it another five years and our Auror force will be back to how it was during the Grindelwald war," said Amelia reassuringly.

"Now, any news on Bertha Jorkins?"

"None," Amelia grimaced. "I had no clue of her disappearance until word spread throughout the Ministry. Apparently, Ludo Bagman thought she was fine and that she might have ended up in Australia instead of Albania. It was only in December that my department found out about it."

"I really don't this," said Sirius, feeling uneasy.

"Why? I have contacted the Albanian Ministry of Magic, but they have no news yet. I've heard that her memory is quite loose. It seems unlikely, but maybe she went to the wrong place by accident and something happened ..."

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins. She was in Gryffindor with James and me, not to mention was Lily's roommate, and let me tell you, Amy, she was an idiot; very nosy, no brains at all and she loved to gossip. You should have heard Lily and Alice rant about her all those years ago. That girl I knew did not have a faulty memory so I'm confused as to how that suddenly happened. It's a dangerous combination and –"

"She might have walked right into the group of Death Eaters?" asked Amelia, eyebrows raised.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't put it past Bellatrix to kill her," said Sirius grimly. "But what purpose would that serve? She's a lowly employee at the Department of Magical Games and Sports; she doesn't have access to any useful information, classified or not. I just don't see the point!"

They sat in silence for a minute. "Any news about the Death Eaters?" he asked quietly.

"None. Our sensor net is still operating at peak efficiency so we would have known about it in case they had come back to Britain. It now includes that underwater tunnel between England and France, so there is no coming back. So we'll have to infer that they're still abroad."

"It's not like her, Amy," said Sirius, feeling quite frustrated. Getting up from his chair, he began pacing. "I _know_ Bella; she would not be this quiet unless she is planning something. We were raised as siblings all our lives, so I know in my gut that she's up to something, but I can't put my finger on it. What about the pardoned Death Eaters?"

"Nothing to report. They have been quiet, minding their own business and playing on the Wizengamot as usual. Sure, they have some shady deals here and there, but it's nothing to be concerned about. Oh, and Walden Macnair took an extended leave of absence, I heard."

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "He has enough leave built up over the years and it's not like his job is that important," he said.

"Keep at it," he said heavily. "I'm still looking for the locket. I swear, I wonder what Regulus did with it! It's the last one! If we destroy that, there is no chance of Voldemort ever coming back!"

Amelia sighed as she closed her eyes. "When have our lives ever been easy?"

Sirius snorted as he rubbed his temples. He didn't know how Fudge enjoyed this job. Being the Minister of Magic was very demanding but he knew that he would be at this post for a long time; at least seven years. He might as well get used to it.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry's face was a blank mask as the dozen practice dummies surrounded him. His wand swished and swirled in the air as curses flew from the tip of his wand. When most witches and wizards in the world used magic, their spells usually had colour. This was because they didn't have much control over their magic, diluting the spells. Magic itself in its pure form did not have any colour. When it was not focussed enough, the spells when it comes into contact with anything outside the caster develops into a colour. However, experienced wizards like Dumbledore and Voldemort had enough control to decrease the amount of light being produced, thus increasing the power and efficiency of the spells. The only testament to the magic being cast would be ripples in the air. This was a technique which fascinated Harry when he watched the memories when Voldemort practised it. Using the Dark Lord's technique, Harry tried it himself.

Harry avoided the jets of light coming towards him, creating a full-body shield to protect himself. He dodged and cast several curses at them, destroying them. Harry had prepared a timetable on which subject he would practice each day and today was the Dark Arts. Twisting in mid-air, a pale jet of green light impacted the last dummy, blasting it to smithereens.

He panted, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. Finally, after too many failed attempts, he had managed to cast the Killing Curse silently. It was quite an achievement because most could not cast the curse at all and to do it silently was spectacular – not that anyone would appreciate it. He did not understand how the Killing Curse was worse than plenty of other curses the Dark Arts offered. At least it was nothing gory like the Blood-Boiling Curse or the Organ-Liquefying Curse.

It was now the end of May and Harry had been training non-stop since the day of the second task. He used every opportunity he could get to study or train, occasionally missing out on sleep as he browsed Voldemort's memories. But there lay the problem – the more he watched, the more he felt sorry for Tom Riddle.

The two of them were so similar yet so different ... if only Tom had not split his soul, he might have gone on to be one of the greatest leaders of his generation. Instead, he let his fear of death cloud his judgement as he succumbed to the temptations of immortality. Every ritual had a price and immortality by the means of splitting his soul snatched away Tom Riddle's sanity.

Tom had never been able to control his emotions much. Unlike Harry, he had been a natural at Legilimency like Dumbledore, so being Muggle-raised, it took time for him to learn Occlumency. But since he had split his soul at the tender age of sixteen, his impressive Occlumency barriers he built up in his later years were useless against the raw anger he could not control. Instead of waging a political battle as the primary offensive and backroom murder as a last resort, his insanity had led him to start a war that killed thousands of witches and wizards and more Muggles as well. He had transformed from a boy who wanted to help the magical world to a monster who wanted to destroy it.

But that was where the conflict arose. Harry had seen memories of Tom Riddle when he had been human and he couldn't bring himself to hate him. Riddle had become his mentor, his teacher, as Harry learnt extensively from the memories. Watching Tom Riddle struggle to rise up the ranks of society made Harry admire him; here was yet another wizard who had been abused by Muggles, shunned by wizards, and yet managed to remain strong.

Tom's life had not been easy. His early days at the orphanage were terrible as it had been for Harry and Dylan and being raised during a time of war was never easy. It wasn't so bad when he was a baby, but when the incidents of accidental magic started, things became worse – just like how it had happened to Dylan and Harry. It began small, like bursts of magic when he was angry or upset; these were handled by magical parents when they knew what to look for, but Muggles were not equipped to deal with or raise magical children. Orphanages were already poorly staffed and funded, not to mention the caregivers were not always the best, especially during wartime, leading to bullying problems. Tom's incidents of accidental magic lead to the matron, Mrs Cole, to panic.

Just like how the Dursleys had forced it on Harry, just like how the matron at the orphanage had forced it on Dylan, Mrs Cole had also forced Tom to undergo an exorcism when he was five years old. All three boys had been scarred by that incident and none of them had ever spoken about it to anyone ever again; until Harry had mentioned it to Dylan and vice versa. That one incident managed to break Tom Riddle, making the young child forever lose trust in his caregivers, making him hate them – just like how it had happened to Harry.

When school started, he immediately became the top student in the incoming class, but not all were impressed with him. Teachers doted on him, while others did not like the way he grasped everything so quickly. Jealousy was a dangerous emotion, and in the small, poorly funded school that Tom was sent to during his childhood when the Second World War was just heating up, meant that no one noticed. That was when Tom began developing his mask of always being polite, though his emotions did sometimes get the better of him.

But there was another problem – the bullies. News of his strange powers had spread throughout the orphanage, especially after the failed exorcism, and he was treated horribly by them. They said that his mother had died because even she didn't want to raise a freak such as him and that he was evil, that he was cursed, and that was probably why his mother died. He was also punished by Mrs Cole for talking back whenever he tried to defend himself, making him colder in the process. Like Harry, there was no one to protect him from his tormentors. He was alone.

Having no one to help him, he had turned to the only alternative he had available to him – the arcane force that everyone said was abnormal. Using his powers, he began retaliating against his tormenters. Billy Stubbs, who had killed Tom's newly discovered pet snake which was in the back garden, found his rabbit dead; Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop who always said cruel things about him and his mother found themselves scared and tortured in a cave by the sea. Children could be mean, but unless they were disciplined, it stuck to them for life. Unfortunately, Tom had no one to help him – unlike Harry – so he grew up to become more hateful.

His Hogwarts letter was a surprise, but not unwelcome. But things were not smooth down in the dungeons. Slytherins did not take kindly to Tom, a suspected Muggle-born, to have been sorted into their House. Tom was shunned and picked on by the older purebloods, but his natural talent with magic, not to mention his ability as a Parselmouth eventually won them over. Soon, he began gathering allies. The Chamber of Secrets incident was not well thought out, but he had survived it, however, the Muggle Second World War had shaken him to the core, enough for him to create a Horcrux at the age of sixteen. The London Blitz was the cause behind Tom's irrational fear of death. When Professor Merrythought retired, he had applied for a teaching post at Hogwarts just after graduation.

He had genuinely wanted to teach.

But it had been denied to him. The anger caused by the splitting of his soul had made him want to seize more power. Tom had then travelled the world, learning all forms of Dark Magic in the process, taking part in horrifying rituals to strengthen his body and magical core. The more he split his soul, the more Tom Riddle disappeared, leaving behind the monster known as Voldemort.

Tom had wanted allies to wage a political battle, doing his best to save witches and wizards from the danger of Muggles, but Voldemort wanted power, _only_ power. Tom Riddle was essentially dead by the time the war was in full swing, with Voldemort destroying anything in his path.

Harry was absolutely disgusted by Voldemort's actions and how he had crippled Magical Britain in his attempt to seize power. The Dark Lord had killed men, women and children without mercy. While Harry respected Tom Riddle as his teacher, he knew that Voldemort was an inhumane monster; a very dangerous monster who needed to be put down as quickly as possible. The atrocities committed by deformed, power-hungry wizard were too terrible to behold; rituals such as the ones Voldemort used were never to be attempted. There was a line that was never to be crossed, and Voldemort had shamelessly broken the laws of Magic which everyone held so dear.

If only they could find that blasted locket. Where had Regulus hidden it?

Harry picked up the Sword of Gryffindor as he continued his training. A sword of similar length was suspended in mid-air, conjured by the Room of Requirement, as it swung at him. Harry dodged and the two metals collided with a clang.

Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange looked at each other worriedly as they heard the sound of swords clashing against the other. Harry had been pushing himself to the limit over the past few months and they could see that he was getting irritable.

"Something has to be done," muttered Dylan. "Or he'll snap."

"Don't worry," said Daphne with a small smile. "I have an idea."

"I'm not telling him to take it easy!" Dylan exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender. "The last time I suggested it, he bit my head off and I'm not eager to face my brother when he's that angry."

Daphne shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry sighed as he collapsed on the couch in the Room of Requirement after a gruelling sword-fighting practice. He could understand now why Godric loved his sword. It was amazing to fight with it; the rush he got when something so sharp came towards him as he deflected it, the sound of metals clashing against the other, the swiftness and agility needed to attack his opponent – it was exhilarating.

"Finished with your practice?" asked Daphne, sitting next to him as she wiped his face with a cool cloth.

"Ah, thanks, Daph," Harry muttered, as he placed his head on her lap, closing his eyes as he relaxed.

"Harry," said Daphne quietly. "Do you have to train so hard?"

Harry's eye twitched in annoyance but he remained quiet. Daphne simply ran her fingers through his smooth raven locks. Harry moaned slightly as her hands began digging into his scalp, massaging it delicately.

"I'm not going to tell you to slow down," said Daphne softly. "But is it wrong to be worried about your well-being?"

"You and Dylan should know that I can take care of myself," said Harry quietly. "So stop worrying. Both of you should be worried about your end of year exams, nothing more."

"We have that covered. You tutor the both of us so we're ahead of our peers. Now, will you at least allow me to help you relax?"

Harry remained quiet and Daphne found it frustrating that she couldn't tell anything by his blank expression. "And how are you going to help me relax?"

Daphne's face lit up. "Okay, just stay here and keep your eyes closed. I'll be back."

Harry's lips twitched slightly in amusement as she got up. Closing his eyes, within thirty seconds, he was fast asleep. Two hours later Daphne gently shook him awake. "Harry, wake up," she said softly. "Everything's ready."

Harry blinked his eyes when he noticed a door facing him on the other side of the room. He followed Daphne's instructions to the letter, including stripping off all his clothes. When he entered through the door, he realised that it was a sauna.

"This is supposed to help me relax?" asked Harry wearily.

"This is part of the plan, so go with it. Be patient," she explained. Harry's cheeks tinted pink as he saw, to his surprise and elation, Daphne removing her clothes as well. Supremely unconcerned, knowing that he was watching her, Daphne walked inside the sauna and closed her eyes to relax.

They spent twenty minutes in the sauna together, but seeing Daphne in a state of undress excited Harry so it turned into a make-out session right there. Once done, the two sweaty teens took a cool shower together. The room shimmered again, this time turning into a small room filled with candles. A single bed was in the middle of the room along with body oils mixed with muscle relaxing potions.

"A massage?" asked Harry in surprise.

"Yes. Now lie down on your belly."

Harry smiled at her as he lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes and soon felt the warm oil all over his back. Soft hands touched his skin as she began kneading his shoulders. Harry moaned as Daphne slowly worked her way down, releasing the tension from his sore muscles. She massaged his shoulders, spine, and lower back until she gave him a sensual foot rub. Harry had never felt so relaxed in his life! He was so aroused at this point that even the slightest twinge made him moan in frustration. He was dying for a release but Daphne wouldn't even let him touch himself.

After firmly kneading his shoulders, she made him turn on his back as she poured more oil on his front. Gently running her hands over his chiselled chest and abs, she went lower, completely ignoring his throbbing erection. She massaged his legs and went back to his shoulders and by this time, Harry was literally pleading to be touched.

"Please, Daphne," said Harry desperately. "I can't take it anymore. I love you!"

Daphne smirked victoriously. Applying more warm oil to his penis and testicles, she gave feather-light touches until she finally grabbed the shaft in her fist and began stroking it. After having been aroused for more than an hour, it was only a minute before Harry ejaculated, panting hard.

"That was the best experience of my life. And you are the best fiancée one could ask for. Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Daphne muttered against his lips. "Now, are you feeling better?"

"Yes," said Harry, but a smirk formed on his lips. "But it's your turn now."

Getting up, he pushed her on her belly, taking a moment to admire her. Carefully tucking her long hair to the side, he placed gentle kisses on her spine before applying oil as he began massaging her back. Slowly and sensually, he moved lower, applying more oil as she spread her legs. Daphne moaned in pleasure as she felt Harry's finger enter her vagina, stroking her inner walls. Removing his finger, he made her turn, lying on her back. Again, he gently kissed her neck and moved lower until he was sucking on her nipples. Swirling his tongue against it, he switched breasts while constantly fingering her, with his thumb now gently rubbing her clitoris. When he realised that she was close to orgasm, he withdrew, making her whine in frustration.

Laughing softly at her choice of words as Daphne cursed him, Harry poured the warm oil over her front, kneading her breasts firmly. He gently massaged her smooth and flat stomach until he reached the area between her legs. Ignoring it, he went lower until he was giving her a foot rub.

"Please, Harry," whined Daphne. "I can't take any more of this either! This is torture!"

Harry kissed her sweetly. "You did the same to me, didn't you?" he asked in amusement.

Not waiting for a reply, Harry gave her another kiss, his hand moving between her legs. Daphne moaned as she began moving in rhythm along with his fingers. His thumb returned to stroking her clitoris. He sucked on her nipples and Daphne arched her back as she came, her body trembling with intense pleasure.

"I'm ready, Harry," she whispered, panting hard. "Please make love to me!"

"Daphne, are you sure?" asked Harry, looking concerned. "I don't want you to do this because you think I'm stressed."

"Yes, I'm sure! Otherwise, I wouldn't have suggested it."

Harry nodded as he climbed on top of her, kissing her lovingly and passionately. He kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe while kneading her breasts.

"Harry, stop fooling around! We've been doing this for more than an hour!"

"Patience, love," whispered Harry, kissing her again as he carefully inserted his thick cock into her vagina. When he was partially inside, he saw Daphne's face scrounge up in discomfort, blood trickling down her inner thighs, but at her insistence, he moved until his hips were flush against her arse. Panting, he pressed his lips to her neck, licking sweetly at her pleasure spot, doing his best to try and ease her pain.

"Isn't there a numbing potion that would help?" he whispered in concern.

"There is, but Madam Pomfrey said it would make the experience less pleasurable for me if I used it, so I didn't."

"Okay. Tell me to stop if it hurts too much."

With that, he slowly pulled himself from her and thrust back. After several minutes of slow and gentle movements, her face cleared as the pain slowly receded. Finding a rhythm, Harry thrust his cock in and out of Daphne while kissing her neck. Her moans were getting louder as she dug her nails into his skin. Harry grunted in pleasure and nibbled on her earlobe. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room and it wasn't long before both of them knew they were close to orgasm. Finding each other's lips, they kissed passionately as Harry increased the speed of his thrusts. The couple moaned in each other's mouths as they climaxed; their bodies spasmed due to the intense pleasure coursing through their veins.

Collapsing by her side, Harry breathed deeply, pulling her close to his chest, his softening cock slipping out of her vagina. Daphne was panting too as they leaned in for a kiss, full of undying love and adoration for the other.

"I love you," said Harry sincerely.

Blue eyes met green as Daphne smiled. Placing her head snugly under his chin, she murmured, "I love you too."

Closing their eyes, both of them entered the dream world as a blanket magically appeared on their bodies, covering them.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: So, what do you think? I know that Tom Riddle could be shown as a mentally unbalanced kid as well, but I thought I might show what caused him to go down the dark path. Even Darth Vader was once an innocent nine-year-old Anakin Skywalker. Tom was always dark, but if the right decisions had been taken by those older than him, could he have been saved from the path of becoming Lord Voldemort? Maybe. I'd like to know your views on the matter, so do leave a comment. As for the locket, it will be explained in a couple of chapters. Thanks for the reviews!_**


	28. The Dark Lord's offer

**_Chapter 28_**

 ** _The Dark Lord's Offer_**

The next morning, the Great Hall was slack-jawed. Harry Potter, a person none of them had ever seen smile for more than a few seconds at a time, a person who always had an impassive look on his face, was actually _smiling the whole time_! No one knew what caused the sudden change. Harry's friends were giving his speculative looks; a few questions revealed that there was nothing out of the ordinary, but they knew something was different. If someone spotted Madam Pomfrey giving him knowing looks, they never realised why that was.

After putting up a strong privacy charm, Dylan smirked at the older couple. Astoria was doing her best not to giggle every time she saw her sister and future brother-in-law.

"So," said Dylan elaborately. "Is there something you both would like to tell us?"

"No, nothing," said Harry.

"Are you sure?" piped in Astoria. "There's nothing new or important that you would feel the need to tell us about?"

"No," repeated Harry, but he cursed himself for not being able to stop smiling. What the hell was wrong with him? "Why would you ask such a strange question?"

"Well, you both have a certain – glow – about you today," said Dylan, trying to hold back his laughter. "Harry, you look a lot more relaxed than you did last night. Did Daphne's relaxation technique help?"

"How much do they know?" Harry whispered in her ear.

Daphne grimaced. "Everything," she muttered. "They knew what I was planning last night; I told them."

"Oh," said Harry, his face turning pink when he saw his brother giving him a knowing grin.

"Harry! You dog! I'm surprised your brain didn't explode from feeling so many _intense_ emotions last night!"

Astoria couldn't control herself any longer as she began giggling hysterically.

"I'll have you know he was amazing last night," said Daphne, her nose in the air, smirking slightly as she saw Harry's face turn further pink in embarrassment. "He certainly made _me_ feel intense emotions."

"Wow!" Dylan grinned. "Way to go, big bro! I'm proud of you!"

Harry coughed as he drank water to cool the temperature of his body. He was blushing madly – why couldn't he control himself?

"Oh, how I wish I had a camera!" Astoria laughed. "I would love to take a picture of Harry blushing like a little girl."

"I was telling the truth," whispered Daphne. Harry smiled fondly as he bumped his shoulder against hers. The dam burst as he let his happiness shine through and a wide grin formed on his face.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

At the office of the Minister of Magic, the Floo suddenly burst into emerald green flames, revealing a teenage boy. Stepping out, the boy flicked his fingers to remove the ash and spotted his godfather sitting behind the elaborate desk.

"Hey, kiddo," said Sirius, smiling at him. "Are you ready?"

Harry nodded and followed his godfather towards the golden lifts. After exiting at the appropriate level, they entered the office of Madam Marchbanks, the Head of the Department of Education.

"Ah, young Harry Potter," said Madam Marchbanks, looking at him fondly. "It seems just like yesterday when you were here with your godfather requesting permission for the accelerated program and here you are, ready to take your N.E.W.T.s at the age of fourteen! Shall we get started?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry with a small smile on his face.

For the next seven days, Harry had to endure one brutal exam after the other. All his exams had both a theory and practical component. He managed to stun his examiners in practical Ancient Runes by showing his knowledge of warding and enchantment, using a series of Rune clusters in the process. Arithmancy and Potions were amazing; after the second task, Harry had patented the Amphibian Potion and released it to the market. It was quite successful as there was no limit on the amount of time one could stay underwater after drinking the potion.

Companies who employed witches and wizards to collect potion ingredients from the sea or lake bed were the first to begin using them. Then the various commercial establishments like hotels and resorts began stocking the potion because it was easy to supply to their guests if they wanted to go exploring underwater. Magical governments were the biggest consumers as they used it to track those who tried to smuggle illegal goods underwater, a problem they had never truly tackled. Harry had never expected it to become such a hit in the international market and the returns he got from it were substantial. He certainly was not complaining.

In his Arithmancy and Potions exam, Harry told the examiners how he had arrived at the formulae and how he integrated it into the potion; needless to say, they were most impressed.

His Charms exam was easy in his opinion as he demonstrated the Patronus Charm and several other charms which they asked for, all non-verbally. His glamour charms and space expansion charms were very well received.

The Transfiguration exam left his examiners gaping in shock and Madam Marchbanks beaming in pride. He was able to conjure a large gilded carriage, conjured a tiger which roared and chased a conjured deer, and finally, his concept of Battle Transfiguration had them applauding for him.

His Defence exam might have made a few of the 'pro-Dumbledore' examiners queasy as he explained and demonstrated accurately various dark curses and exactly how to counter them. He reasoned with them saying that unless you knew the curse itself, you could never identify it, so where did the question of defence come from?

Herbology was also good and by the time Harry returned to Hogwarts, he was exhausted. Daphne ensured that he was plenty relaxed for several days after the exams.

As the date of the third task rolled in, Harry could feel his excitement building up. He had survived for this long and he was confident he would do well in the third task as well. He could just picture himself holding the Triwizard Cup. After going through all this, he did not feel bad about wanting to win. He definitely had worked harder than the other three champions – combined!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry looked at the maze speculatively, not listening to the sounds made by the band or the hundred thousand people milling around the stands. He was standing with the other champions at the entrance, thinking about various ways to counter wards or break curses or how to defend against magical creatures. The Greengrasses had already hugged him and wished him the best of luck and were sitting in the front row, smiling encouragingly at him – Harry did not even want to ask how much they had paid to get front row seats, but he did appreciate the gesture.

Daphne and Dylan were on either side of him, both of them looking queasy. Daphne was standing still, staring into the distance, but Dylan was mumbling to himself that it was going to be fine.

Fifteen minutes later, the stands were full, and the live broadcast began. The tiny crystals were surrounding the champions and the four appeared on the large mirrors. Millions of witches and wizards around the world were watching the final task of the very popular Triwizard Tournament.

The Triwizard Emergency Squad came over to the champions and one of them said, "We'll be patrolling the perimeter of the maze and monitoring your progress. If you run into any trouble and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, understood? If you are in a life-threatening situation, we'll be there immediately to rescue you."

Mr Bagman pointed his wand to his throat and began. " _Sonorus!_ Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament! This task is very straightforward – it's a maze, filled with different traps, wards, spells and magical creatures. The Triwizard Cup is at the centre of the maze, and the champion who reaches for it first will win the Tournament, earning him or her eternal glory and twenty-five thousand Galleons! The cup is a Portkey that leads them directly here. So once any one of them touches the cup, they will be transported out of the maze and be declared the winner!" he said as the crowd cheered.

"Let me remind you how the points currently stand – in fourth place is Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy with 68 points! In third place is Mr Viktor Krum of Durmstrang Institute with 81 points!" he said and the crowd roared in approval for their respective champions.

"In second place we have Mr Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts School with 82 points!" he shouted as the crowd screamed.

"And finally, in first place, we have Mr Harry Potter also of Hogwarts School with 98 points!" he shouted, and the noise from the audience was deafening.

Harry breathed deeply; it was time. He turned around and hugged Daphne tightly, giving her a soft kiss.

"Good luck, Harry," she said softly. "I know you can do this. Stay safe."

"Thanks, Daphne."

He turned towards his brother, only for Dylan to grab him in a death grip, his body trembling. "Dylan, I'll be fine," said Harry, smiling slightly. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Just – just be careful, please," said Dylan desperately. Harry smiled as he kissed his brother's forehead affectionately. Breathing deeply again, he walked to the entrance of the maze; something made him turn around and he couldn't help but smile back at his adopted parents – Sirius and Amelia were looking at him in determination, each of them trying their best to remain strong for the boy they considered their own son. Harry sent a reassuring smile to Amelia whose face looked pale.

"Good luck, Harry," whispered Amelia softly as she watched him in the large mirror. "Come back safe and sound."

" _Lumos!_ "

Lighting his wand, he walked forward, using a spell to check where he was going. Harry turned north at a corner, only to suddenly scream; his voice echoed throughout the maze. He was falling from the top of a tower. Uncle Vernon was punishing him again, locking him in his cupboard at Privet Drive, leaving him broken and hungry. Hundreds of Dementors were closing all around him. A giant Basilisk was lunging at him. The tortured, mangled bodies of Daphne and Dylan were looking at him with empty, dead eyes. The shade of Tom Riddle was becoming clearer as he raised his wand. Lily Potter screamed in agony and there was a blinding flash of green light ...

" _Riddikulus!_ "

" _Bombarda Maxima!_ "

Panting loudly and still shivering, he walked forward, cursing himself for not expecting such hidden traps; it had been a powerful boggart coupled with an illusionary enchantment hidden under several advanced concealment wards. He reached a dead end, so he turned back, only to be assaulted by hundreds of Cornish pixies. Waving his wand over his head, Harry conjured a full-body shield to protect himself, followed by a wide area stunner. Leaving the stunned pixies behind, he walked forward, checking the direction he was taking using the Point-Me spell.

Just as he took another bend, he felt oppressive coldness envelop him. Bad memories started to form in his mind, as he saw two Dementors in front of him, inching closer. Harry pointed his wand at the Dementors, thought about Daphne and how much he loved her and mentally said, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

The enormous silver thunderbird shot out of his wand and attacked the Dementors, driving them away. The sound of his boots against the hard ground echoed throughout the path as Harry made his way forward, disabling more wards and curses. It would have been difficult had he not been so well versed in the subjects. Dumbledore was right; anyone under the age of seventeen would stand no chance in this maze. It was only because of what he had learnt in the N.E.W.T. curriculum and also from Voldemort's memories was he able to use his warding and curse-breaking skills effectively.

"Looks like Viktor Krum too has encountered the illusionary ward," said Bagman. "As you remember, Harry Potter encountered one as soon as he entered the maze. He seemed to have fallen victim to it until he blasted the ward to pieces."

"Harry Potter has gotten past the Dementors, but no surprises there," said Bagman as the crowd cheered. "His Patronus takes the form of a thunderbird; very unusual, I must say."

When he turned in another direction, Harry was suddenly pushed from the back, making him fall on the ground several feet away, scraping his knees. His shirt was smoking as he was attacked by the Blast-Ended Skrewt. Harry fired spells, but it was no use. The end exploded, making him wince in pain. His eyes darkened in anger; a ripple of magic left his wand and the armour wasn't enough to stop the curse this time. The skrewt shrieked in pain as the curse tore through its body, cutting it into several dozen pieces.

After battling the skrewt, Harry was surprised to find three Thestrals in the middle of the path. Harry smiled at them. Conjuring a dead animal, he tossed it at the creatures as he moved forward to pet them. They really were fascinating creatures and Harry was honoured that he could see them. Giving them one last look, he moved forward.

"Harry Potter can see the Thestrals?" asked Bagman in disbelief. "Oh my!"

Harry realised now that he was close to the cup. He could see the dim light coming from the middle of the maze. He encountered a Sphinx, but he was able to get past it by answering her riddle. Harry smirked. The Triwizard Cup was just twenty feet away. As he began walking, in his excitement, he didn't notice an Acromantula that was silently inching closer to him from behind. With a screech, the large spider lunged at Harry when it was close enough. Harry grimaced in pain as he twisted his leg in avoiding it; he had lost patience and with a furious slash of his wand, he decapitated the Acromantula, killing it. He closed his eyes in pain as he realised that he had a sprained ankle, making it difficult to walk. Looking at the severed pieces of the large spider in disgust and anger, Harry walked towards the Triwizard Cup, trying not to limp. He smirked in triumph. This was the moment. His enemies had underestimated him as he had won the tournament without being killed in the process.

"Harry Potter has reached the Triwizard Cup!" yelled Bagman as people yelled and cheered in delight.

Just as Harry grabbed the handle of the cup, he felt the usual jerk behind his navel. As his feet touched the ground, he had barely even managed to get a glimpse of the place he was in before a jet of scarlet light impacted him as he fell down to the ground, unconscious.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Bind the boy," said a high, cold voice. "He can perform wandless magic, so be sure that he cannot escape."

"Yes, my Lord," said Rabastan as he levitated Harry to the gravestone. With a flick of his wand, heavy metal chains appeared, binding Harry's hands and body to it.

"Rookwood, re-check the wards around the graveyard," said Voldemort. "We don't want any surprises."

"Yes, my Lord," said Rookwood, bowing as he scurried into the darkness.

Rodolphus and Wormtail pushed the giant stone cauldron to the place where it would be kept, ensuring the runes drawn around it were perfectly charged. Once done, the fire began cackling at the bottom.

"Now, Bella," ordered Voldemort.

Bellatrix opened the blanket and released the baby-like creature into the depths of the cauldron. Pointing her wand at Harry, she said, " _Rennervate_ "

Harry's eyes jerked open and he panicked when he realised that he was tied up. His eyes widened when he saw the escaped Death Eaters and he was too shocked to speak.

"Hello, little Harry," said Bellatrix, grinning at him. "Welcome to the Dark Lord's rebirth party."

 _Oh, fuck!_

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

 _"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_

The gravestone cracked and the long bone dropped into the cauldron as it hissed. Peter hesitated but removed a long dagger.

 _"Flesh — of the servant — w-willingly given — you will — revive — your master."_

Harry watched, horrified, as Wormtail cut off an arm and dropped it into the cauldron. Harry had read about rituals, but never had he come across something like this! When Wormtail came towards him, Harry began struggling again as the knife cut into his right forearm. No, this couldn't be happening! Not his blood!

 _"B-Blood of the enemy ... forcibly taken ... you will ... resurrect your foe."_

Harry could do nothing to prevent it; he was tied too tightly. He watched as the potion churned a blinding white colour. Bright sparks emerged from the cauldron as the tall, thin man stepped out. Harry's eyes were wide with terror for the first time since the basilisk incident.

"Robe me," he said coldly as Rodolphus quickly scrambled to cover his master. Voldemort turned and smirked at Harry's struggling form. Oh, how wonderful it was to see the boy like this! He had gathered a lot of information about the boy over the past year. He had not been idle – no, he was Lord Voldemort. As soon as the boy was killed tonight, they would begin their assault on the Ministry of Magic. Without the boy who was prophesied to kill him, not even Albus Dumbledore or Sirius Black could stop him from claiming power.

Of course, there was an alternative ...

Harry stared back at the face of the man who had murdered his parents.

Face white as skull; eyes red with vertical slits like a cat; no nose and with slits for nostrils ...

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"What is going on? Where's Harry?" demanded Sirius angrily.

"Contact the Emergency Squad," said Amelia to the nearby Auror. "Tell them to check the centre of the maze where the cup was placed. Was there something wrong with the Portkey?"

Neither of them paid any attention to Dumbledore as they were busy with the Ministry employees. The Headmaster was staring at Snape and Karkaroff as both of them clutched their left forearms in pain. Dumbledore closed his eyes as he realised what had happened. Voldemort had returned – and he was calling his inner circle Death Eaters to him. When he opened his eyes, there was a rare fire seen in those blue orbs. He was beyond furious, his magic leaking around him, aura palpable. How could this have happened right under his nose?

 _Where was Harry?_

Barty Crouch Senior had a maniacal grin on his face. The grin seemed very out of place on the usually perfectly composed wizard.

Their plan had worked perfectly. The Dark Lord was back!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"My Lord ... master ... please," begged Wormtail.

Voldemort smirked as he threw Peter to the gravestone behind him and again to the ground with a lazy flick of his wand. Wormtail cried in pain, but Voldemort paid him no mind.

"Master ... I beg of you ..."

"Traitorous as you were, Wormtail," said Voldemort coldly, "it was still you who freed my servants from Azkaban, without which I would not have returned to my body. You have helped me, and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers."

A silvery fluid flew from the tip of Voldemort's wand and curled itself around Wormtail's hand. All five of the Death Eaters were now kneeling before him.

"Bellatrix, your arm," said Voldemort. Bellatrix leapt up like a devotee serving her God as she extended her hand, showing the Dark Mark. Voldemort pressed his hand to it and all five of them hissed in pain.

"Now we shall see," said Voldemort softly. "We shall see who has the courage to return ..."

Voldemort walked over to Harry who was still struggling, using liberal amounts of wandless magic in the process, but it was no use. Harry had by now fully regained control of his emotions as his face was cold and impassive. Voldemort had to give it to the boy – his Occlumency shields were most impressive.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said Voldemort softly. "Do you remember the last time we met?"

"I was just a year old when we last met," said Harry calmly. "How do you expect me to remember that?"

Voldemort laughed softly. "I was not talking about that incident, Harry," he said. "I was talking about the time when you murdered Quirrell in your first year at Hogwarts. Smart boy; even Dumbledore did not know that I was possessing Quirrell, but you figured it out ... murder at the age of eleven; I must say I did not expect that from you back then."

If Harry was shocked, he certainly did not show it. _How the hell did Voldemort know that? Voldemort had not made an appearance after Quirrell's death, had he? How did he know that I was the one who killed Quirrell?_

Voldemort smirked as he heard cracks of Apparition. The Death Eaters were looking at Voldemort as though they couldn't believe their eyes. Moving forward, they kissed the hem of his robes and backed away, standing in the circle. The five escaped Death Eaters from Azkaban stood proudly amongst the others, looking smug.

"Welcome Death Eaters," said Voldemort coldly. "Thirteen years ... thirteen years it has been and yet you all appear before me like it had only been yesterday since the last time we had gathered under the Dark Mark. I see you all hale and healthy ... unlike our friends here who broke out of Azkaban to find me. When _they_ could do so, why couldn't you?"

"Nothing to say?" said Voldemort angrily, enjoying the trembling forms of his servants. "Lord Voldemort demands an answer from you all! Let's start with you, shall we Avery? _Crucio!"_

Harry tried to escape, but there was nothing he could do. Even his Animagus form wouldn't work because of the tight chains. If there was even the smallest of space, the chains would tighten around him. If he turned into an eagle, the chains would kill him within seconds. He tried to block out the screams he heard from the Death Eaters as Voldemort identified each of them.

"– Bertha Jorkins was very useful to me. I broke her mind and she gave me information about one more servant who had been chained by his own father. Barty Crouch Junior has been in my service for a year now. He is currently at Hogwarts, enjoying the reactions of everyone, disguised as his father. Using the information about the Triwizard Tournament, Barty confunded the Goblet of Fire into accepting Harry Potter's name so that he could be brought here – it worked."

"Stop struggling, Harry," said Voldemort silkily as he approached the boy. "You should be honoured to be here. I must say you are nothing like what I expected."

"Then what did you expect I would be like?" asked Harry quietly.

"Well ..." said Voldemort, smirking. "I certainly did not expect the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore's pawn and secret weapon against me, to be a _dark wizard_!"

Several of the Death Eaters inhaled sharply at those words. If the Dark Lord said it, it must be true.

"I'm not a dark wizard!" said Harry, still not losing control of his emotions. They were locked tighter than a Gringotts vault, deep within him. "And I'm most certainly _not_ Dumbledore's pawn."

"Yes, I know, you're not Dumbledore's puppet," said Voldemort, laughing softly. "But you and I both know you are a dark wizard, Harry; I can sense it! You were capable of committing cold-blooded murder at the age of eleven when you killed Quirrell; the first time _I_ killed was at the age of sixteen. That's why you're not a light wizard; you do what needs to be done. You knew I was a threat to your life and you took action, even if it meant killing another person. Admit it! You're a dark wizard."

Harry refused to answer. In his mind, there was no such thing as light and dark. There was only magic in its purest form, nothing more.

"Dumbledore miscalculated, my friends," said Voldemort, turning to his Death Eaters. "He wanted a pawn, a weapon against me when I returned, so he sent little Harry Potter away to his Muggle relatives. That's where the old man's plans backfired. I found out later that Harry Potter was abused by those filthy Muggles; it was so bad that he ran away, never to be controlled by the old fool again. But it also made him hate Muggles, didn't it, Harry? He believes in our agenda; he hates Muggles and distrusts Muggle-borns and yet, people strangely believe him to be the beacon of the light!"

"I have spies in different places, Harry," explained Voldemort, smirking at the boy, having observed the look of surprise in the boy's eyes which had flashed for an instant. "I was able to gather a lot of information about you over the past year. Everything you have done – your adventures, your relationship with different people, your skills, everything. We are so similar, Harry. We are so similar, it is quite unnerving, isn't it?"

Voldemort grabbed Harry's face in his hand. "I shouldn't have tried to kill you," he hissed in his ear. Seeing the flicker of surprise on Harry's face, he laughed. "No, I should have _kidnapped_ you instead. I should have raised you as my son, both of us having Salazar's blood running through our veins. How would you react to that, Harry? I can feel the conflict within you ... I don't need Legilimency to know what you're thinking; you wouldn't have minded such a life, would you? Imagine what your life would have been like had you been raised as the son of the Dark Lord himself ... you would have grown to admire me instead of hating me. The prophecy would have been rendered useless ..."

"I never said I hated you," said Harry quietly, speaking for the first time.

Voldemort laughed softly in his ear. "Good ... you know of my past from that incident in the Chamber of Secrets. I know how much you hate Muggles, Harry. I also know how much you crave knowledge. I can offer you more knowledge and power than you could ever imagine. You could be the ruler of the world, Harry! The prophecy will never come to haunt us again, and I will not kill you. You can pay Albus Dumbledore back for all that he has done to you. Magical power such as yours should not be wasted, young one. I can personally teach you the most arcane branches of magic. I am willing to accept you as my son, an honour which has never been bestowed upon any child in the world! I _should_ have raised you as my son, forever negating the effects of the prophecy; you can see the advantages of this, don't you? Think like a Slytherin, Harry, for Salazar's noble blood flows in our veins! Had I made the right choice, I would never have lost my body all those years ago. No matter, it's a mistake I am willing to rectify. Will you, Harry Potter join me, Lord Voldemort?"

All the Death Eaters sucked in a breath, but the Dark Lord paid no attention. More than a year ago, Harry would have laughed in Voldemort's face, but after seeing the Dark Lord's memories, he could not bring himself to hate the man. It was easy to hate a monster but difficult to hate a human. In fact, he respected Tom Riddle. Tom was his teacher, his guide, his mentor. Harry had learnt so much from him from watching his memories. Tom was the man talking to him, telling Harry that he would give a place as his own son ...

"You and I both know that you are conflicted Harry," said Voldemort, walking around the boy. "You also share the same goals as me. Granted, you are more lenient towards Muggle-borns, but if you could have it, you would exterminate the Muggles completely. I can sense the darkness in you, young one. Embrace your true self ... will you join me?"

Harry remained silent. Having been raised in a traditionalist pureblood environment by his ancestor Alfred Potter, wizarding culture and tradition were ingrained in him even before he entered Hogwarts. Wizarding culture demanded that all teachers be respected; they were beacons of light who parted their knowledge of magic with their students and were held in very high esteem in the minds of witches and wizards. They deserved respect, and this was the reason why no matter how much Harry hated Dumbledore, he had never disrespected the old mage to his face – not once, always addressing him by his title; of course, he didn't respect Snape, but the man could not be called a teacher at all.

That was also the reason he didn't talk back to Voldemort. The Dark Lord, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, was Tom Riddle, the same Tom Riddle who was his teacher, and thus, Harry couldn't bring himself to disrespect Voldemort. However, it did anger him; this monster was the one who stole his parents from him, and yet here he was, doing his utmost best to turn Harry to the dark side. What was startling was how convincing Voldemort truly was. Had Harry not accepted Sirius and Amelia as his adopted parents, had he not escaped the Dursleys at the age of seven with no one to truly care for him, he knew in his heart that he would have accepted Voldemort's offer.

But that was not the case, for he was the proud son of James and Lily Potter and the adopted son of Sirius and Amelia Black. No one else had room to take that spot in his heart, for it had already been filled.

"No," said Harry quietly.

"No?" Voldemort repeated the word dangerously. "Well, this should give you a reason as to why you should change your mind, Harry. I think you all have heard about Rabastan's illegitimate son?" asked Voldemort to the Death Eaters. Rabastan stiffened but didn't say anything.

"I have information that Harry here is very close to young Dylan Lestrange. Close enough that they consider each other brothers, siblings. I know that you deeply care about Dylan, Harry. But what would happen if Dylan were to join me? You know that it is not impossible. His father, uncle, aunt, and grandfather all served under me. What would you do if your beloved little brother were to join me?"

Harry again had no answer.

"You would never harm a hair on Dylan's head, would you, Harry?" asked Voldemort, grabbing the boy's face in his hand. "Would you actually join me if Dylan asked you to?"

"I will not join you," said Harry softly but firmly. "The reason I will not join you is not due to your goals – it is your methods. You are responsible for the deaths of thousands of witches and wizards. Your goal is to tear down the International Statute of Secrecy while mine is to enforce it more rigidly. You want to kill all Muggle-borns but I want to bring them completely into the magical world, cutting them off from Muggle influence. Your methods would bring about our destruction. My conscience will not allow that. I respect you and may even care about you in ways you will never understand, but you will _always_ consider me a threat because of the prophecy that is handing over our heads. Even if I accept you as a father or a mentor, you would always be paranoid that I would kill you and seize power. That paranoia would lead me nowhere. I will not insult my parents by accepting your offer."

Voldemort stared at the boy speculatively. "Very well," he said coldly. "If this is the fate you want, Harry, then I will give it to you. By the end of this session, you will be given a choice – _join me or face death_. I hope you have the sense to choose the right path!"

Harry waited for the inevitable to come. Sure enough –

" _Crucio!_ "

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to fight the pain. His body convulsed as he felt like someone was stabbing him with a million hot knives in every inch of his body. His nerves were on fire, but he didn't utter a word. The metal chains cut into his flesh, releasing blood. A lone tear slipped down his pale cheek.

"Not a screamer?" said Voldemort lightly. "Well, I always like a challenge!"

" _Crucio!_ "

This time, Harry couldn't handle it. Throwing his head back, the proud young boy screamed in a manner he had never screamed before. He couldn't take it. It was going on for too long! Anymore pain like this for the rest of the night and he would end up next to the Longbottoms!

"Now, that wasn't so difficult, was it Harry?" cooed Voldemort as he saw the panting and twitching teen. "A full minute under the Cruciatus and yet you look at me with defiance. Well, I do like entertainment. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, show our young guest what happens to those who defy me ..."

"Yes, my Lord!" they said in unison as they walked forward, grinning with glee.

The rest of the Death Eaters stepped back to form a large circle. Voldemort conjured a throne for himself. Nagini slithered to his lap as he stroked the large snake. Bellatrix and Rodolphus removed the chains and for a moment, Harry considered running for it, but he knew there was no way out. The Cruciatus Curse ensured that he couldn't walk much and he didn't even have his wand; wandless magic would only do so much. Apparition or Portkey wouldn't work either – he had already tried it. They had been prepared.

"Well," said Bellatrix cackling. "Let's get started, shall we? _Crucio_!"

Harry had never been in so much pain ever in his life. He was tossed around the graveyard, tortured by the several different curses cast by the Lord and Lady Lestrange. His shirt was ripped apart and his upper torso was covered in blood from where Bellatrix had used him as a knife sharpener. Several deep gashes dominated his upper torso when finally, Rodolphus decided to show his nasty side as well by cursing him in the groin. Severe pain immediately shot up his body from his testicles.

"Have you made your decision, Harry?" asked Voldemort, raising a non-existent eyebrow. "Join me, and I'll tell them to stop."

" _Go to hell_ ," hissed Harry from his place on the ground, his anger making him switch to Parseltongue.

Voldemort's red eyes hardened. "Fifty lashes, Rodolphus," he said calmly. "Harry needs to understand that disobedience would only lead to punishment."

"Yes, master," Rodolphus grinned. He gripped the end of the whip. With those numerous cuts Bellatrix had made on the boy, even the slightest contact would cause unending pain. Forcing Harry to stand up as he tied the boy's wrists with invisible ropes, making his arms rise above his head, Rodolphus slashed the whip across Harry's bare back.

Harry grimaced but did not utter a sound. The Death Eaters watching were unnerved by the nearly fifteen-year-old boy's pain tolerance. He had suffered multiple Cruciatus Curses by the Lestranges and Voldemort himself, had been the subject of numerous other torture curses, had his entire upper body covered with deep cuts from where Bellatrix had used a knife, and now, he did not utter a sound as Rodolphus whipped him?

Rodolphus frowned. He increased the strength of the whip as the whip impacted Harry's body again.

Harry grunted, more tears rolling down his cheeks, but did not say anything. He took two more whips before he began screaming in pain as the whip hit him in the chest. Deep gashes formed on his back, chest and stomach as the whip impacted him. Harry was sure he would die from the excruciating pain and his heart filled with emotion at the thought of never seeing Daphne and Dylan again. Unending, irrational hatred filled his heart and he vowed to kill Voldemort one day ... if he survived the night.

"It is done, master," said Rodolphus, ignoring the bloody, beaten, unconscious boy on the ground.

"Good, take your place," ordered Voldemort. He got up from his throne and pushed Harry on his back. Touching the boy's face with his foot, he shook his head.

"Such power, such intelligence, such handsome looks ... tsk tsk ... what a waste. If only you had decided to join me, Harry. Maybe I should have held back on the torture. I did want to duel you; see what the Duelling Champion is made of."

Just as Voldemort turned around, he heard a groan. All of them watched in disbelief as Harry tried to get up. For two whole minutes, he was unsuccessful, but he finally managed to stand on both feet, supported by a large gravestone.

"I'll d-d-duel you," he rasped out, the effects of the Cruciatus Curse causing him to stutter. "If t-that's what you want, I'll duel you. I won't go d-d-down without a f-fight."

"My, my," said Voldemort, smirking. "You certainly have quite a tolerance to pain, Harry. Fine, I'll humour you."

Removing Harry's wand from within his robes, he tossed it in the air. Harry wandlessly summoned it to his left hand, his right still helping him lean on the gravestone.

Holding his wand tightly, Harry looked around the graveyard which would help him fight Voldemort, but he doubted he would be able to perform any complex charm or transfiguration or even move, for that matter. His strength lay in his ability to dodge and move around, but that was impossible considering his present state. However, there was one particular spell he knew he would be able to use effectively.

"First we bow to each other," said Voldemort teasingly. "Come now, Harry. Sirius and Amelia would want you to show manners. The godson of the Minister of Magic couldn't be found lacking!"

Harry bowed slightly but remained stationary.

"Very well," said Voldemort. "Now, we –"

Before he could finish, a very familiar jet of green light came towards him. Snarling, Voldemort cast his own Killing Curse, mentally amazed that the boy was able to use the Killing Curse silently even after being so badly injured. The Death Eaters scrambled for cover as the jets of light flew in all directions from where the two curses met. Harry began moving back as Voldemort gained ground. He could see a hint of blue just ten feet away – the Triwizard Cup! That Portkey had been keyed to the wards!

Just as Voldemort moved closer, Harry released the curse, dived out of the way and summoned the cup. Just as it connected with him, he saw Voldemort's red eyes and heard a scream of anger and rage as he was whisked away.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry impacted the ground amidst cheers, but it soon turned into gasps and screams when they saw the state he was in; it was pretty bad. He was lying on the ground, shirtless, his pants were torn in several places and he was bleeding everywhere. Harry knew that he would fall unconscious soon, but he needed to tell someone, anyone.

"Harry!" yelled Sirius as he moved forward, holding the boy's shoulders to support him. People were now surrounding them, muttering about what could have happened. "Harry, please, talk to me, son. Someone get a healer, NOW!"

"S-S-Sirius," he choked out. "V-V-Voldemort is back. B-B-Barty Crouch is an imp-p-poster!"

That was all Harry said before he fainted in his godfather's arms.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I know that this Voldemort seems saner as compared to canon, but how can he be dangerous if he is not? As for him offering to take Harry as his son, you have to remember that this Harry Potter is much darker than in canon. Voldemort did ask Harry to join him in Book 1 as well. This is the first time the two of them are speaking to each other, so it stands to reason that Voldemort would ask the same question this time. Also, Harry is not weak. He honestly didn't expect a kidnapping attempt and was unprepared for it. He will learn from his mistakes and will be more humble in the future._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews,_ everyone _!_**


	29. The Aftermath

**_Chapter 29_**

 ** _The Aftermath_**

Levitating him from the stretcher, Elizabeth Greengrass and Madam Pomfrey placed Harry on the bed in the hospital wing as two more specialised healers from St Mungo's came through the Floo to help.

"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" breathed one of the Healers as he scanned the boy. "How is he even alive?"

"What's wrong with him?" asked Sirius worriedly.

"He's been tortured, Minister, very, _very_ badly," muttered Healer Thomson. "Multiple counts of Cruciatus and other torture curses, broken bones, internal bleeding, trauma to the nerves, deep cuts on the upper torso with a knife, and he seems to have been whipped, too many times to count. His injuries are severe."

"Can you treat him?" asked Amelia desperately.

"We'll do our best, but we can't guarantee anything," he said gravely, conjuring privacy screens. Vanishing the boy's torn clothes, they began the long process of healing him.

"Who?" asked Amelia through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Voldemort," spat Sirius. "He's back."

"Right under our noses," she said furiously, nails digging into her palm. " _This_ was why the Death Eaters had been quiet. They had been planning this moment to the letter."

At that moment, Cyrus Greengrass entered, along with Daphne, Dylan, Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Sirius, how is he?" inquired Dumbledore.

"This is the result of Voldemort's torture, so what do you expect?" snapped Sirius. "Cyrus, could you stay here with Harry? We need to take care of this. If Voldemort has indeed regained a body –"

He stopped mid-sentence when Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the room, interrupting him. "Minister, Director Black," said the Auror in his deep voice. "Barty Crouch has been captured. You wouldn't believe this, but it's his own son! Barty Junior is alive and has been using Polyjouice Potion to act like his father."

"Mother Magic, be merciful!" Amelia exclaimed in alarm. "There is no telling how much information he might have gained from the Ministry archives! Barty Crouch Senior was the Head of the Department of Internation Magical Cooperation. He had access to classified information and if his son has someone coerced his father into giving him the passcodes to access them ..."

"Place the Ministry under lockdown! No one enters or leaves the building without my express authorization. Tell Head Auror Scrimgeour to meet me at my office. I'll contact Director Croaker and be there soon," ordered Sirius.

"Yes sir," said Kingsley briskly as he quickly walked out.

"We need to contact the old guard," said Dumbledore firmly. "Sirius, the Order –"

"I am the Minister of Magic, Albus," said Sirius, annoyed. "I don't have time to play errands for you. I know the Order is important and I will support it but I also have a country to run. Do what you can and I'll meet you later to discuss this. I do not want the Ministry compromised. Cyrus –"

"Don't worry, Sirius," Cyrus assured him. "Elizabeth and I will remain here until Harry recovers. We won't leave his side."

"Thank you," said Sirius gratefully. With that, he and Amelia quickly made their way out of the hospital wing. Dumbledore seemed to be thinking hard about something but nodding to himself in determination, he too walked out. Daphne and Dylan were sitting together, leaning against the other as they stared into the distance, lost to the world. They had not forgotten the sight of Harry's beaten and bloody body that was on the grounds ... the stark contrast of him smiling and laughing just several hours before brought tears to Dylan's eyes. The fact that his father, uncle and aunt could have been responsible for this was too much to bear.

Hugging Daphne tightly as she rubbed his back in a soothing gesture, he cried silently on her shoulder. Daphne too couldn't help but shed tears. She did not know if Harry was going to make it out alive.

"D-Daphne is Harry going to be o-okay?" asked Dylan, his eyes red, sounding very much like a young child as he hiccupped.

"I don't know, Dylan," said Daphne quietly, as tears rolled down her cheeks. When Astoria entered the hospital wing, Daphne grabbed her sister in a hug too. They sat there, not knowing what to do, as they waited ... waited for any news about Harry's recovery.

More than three and a half hours later, the four exhausted healers stepped out from behind the privacy screens. The specialised healers muttered instructions to Madam Pomfrey and made their way to the Floo. Elizabeth collapsed in an armchair next to her husband as the matron disappeared into her office.

"How is he?" asked Cyrus softly.

"He's stable for now," said Elizabeth quietly. "But when we began healing him, we thought there was no way he was going to stay alive for more than an hour. We were astounded when his inherent magic began helping us heal his injuries. He's very determined, even when near death. It will take time but with enough help, we believe he will make a full recovery."

"Is he in pain?" Daphne whispered, trying to keep her voice steady.

Elizabeth grimaced. "No potion can negate the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, Daphne. I don't know how long he was under the curse, but from our scans, we can infer that it was pretty long. Don't expect him to be the same after he wakes up; he may not be the same Harry Potter you remember. There is a possibility that he has suffered brain damage that we may not have detected yet."

"Nothing will happen to him," said Dylan firmly. "Harry will be fine! No amount of torture can ever break him, I know it!"

No one said anything to that heartfelt declaration because all of them were hoping that Dylan was right.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry groaned softly as he felt himself wake up. The first thing he registered was acute pain all over his body. Then the realisation hit him that he was finding it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt blinding pain shoot up his body from his testicles, nearly paralysing him. He took several deep breaths, ignoring the pain in his chest to combat the pain elsewhere. The unique smell of a hospital made him realise that he was probably at Hogwarts. With a lot of difficulty, he opened his eyes, confirming his whereabouts. The sight of the school's hospital wing greeted him, along with several familiar faces.

Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass were sitting in armchairs by the fireplace, both clearly asleep. Astoria had taken a bed for herself and she too was fast asleep. To his left was Daphne, sitting in a chair by his bed and using the mattress as a pillow. To his right was Dylan, resting his head on Harry's arm, refusing to let go as he slept. When he tried to move, Harry winced in pain. Dylan's eyelids twitched at the movement and slowly opened. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he realised with a start that Harry had regained consciousness. Not wanting to wake anyone who was sleeping, Dylan pressed the locket hanging around his neck, which cast a privacy charm around them. It took all of his self-control to not rush into his brother's arms and give him a hug.

"How are you feeling?" asked Dylan softly as he helped Harry sit up.

"Fine, I think," Harry replied in a raspy voice, wincing in pain as his delicate, abused flesh came into contact with the pillows. It hurt even to touch and breathe.

"You always say that you are fine, even when you're not," Dylan grimaced. "Here, drink this. Madam Pomfrey told us to give it to you if you woke up during the night."

"Can I have some water first?"

Dylan nodded and flicked his wand, making the self-refilling water jug pour water in a glass. Once done, he took the glass and gently placed it at Harry's lips, making his brother sip the water slowly, not wanting to increase the pain Harry obviously felt in his chest. Dylan then took the goblet of potion and helped Harry drink it too.

"Thanks, Dylan," said Harry softly. "Where's Sirius?"

"Ministry. When you told him that Voldemort was back, they captured Barty Crouch and now they're doing their best to secure the Ministry. He and Aunt Amelia gave us strict orders not to leave you."

Harry chuckled but coughed violently instead. He looked at the concerned face of the younger boy and smiled slightly. Extending his arms just a little, he whispered, "Come here."

Dylan wrapped his arms around his brother, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. "D-Did my father do this to you?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"No. Rabastan didn't touch me. Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse once, but the rest of it was all Bellatrix and Rodolphus."

Somehow, that didn't make Dylan feel any better. His own uncle, Dylan's own blood, had done this to Harry!

"What's my prognosis?"

"I don't know," said Dylan, wiping the tears from his eyes. "They said no potion would help with the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Lady Greengrass said they could be some brain damage, but I'm hoping that's not the case. Harry, _I'm_ _so sorry_ ..."

"Don't be an idiot, Dylan, this wasn't your fault. It was mine to have not expected this. It certainly could have been avoided – had I been smart and been prepared for it. I can't believe that I was so expertly fooled. His words are still ringing in my ears."

"What did he say to you?"

"He offered to accept me as his son," said Harry in a monotonous voice, staring at the blank wall. "He said that it was a mistake to have tried to kill me all those years ago, but instead, he should have kidnapped me to raise me as his own son. We're so alike it is unnerving, he said, and I have to agree with him – partly. He was referring to the similarities between me and Tom Riddle, not me and Voldemort. I wonder how my life would have been like had he actually done so. Then again, I do wonder how my life would have been like had my parents lived to raise me themselves."

Harry was suddenly reminded of what Dumbledore had told him several months ago, right after he had been taken to the headmaster's office after his fight with Hermione Granger. When asked as to why he couldn't bury his anger at Dumbledore, Harry had coldly replied that it was difficult not to hate the man who had made his life miserable, and that what-if scenarios always played in his mind. Had Dumbledore made the right choice and let him be raised by Sirius from the start, then the issue of the Dursleys would never have come into play, thus leading to Harry not hating the headmaster. The words Dumbledore had spoken then had been brushed aside by the teenager, but he could understand the wisdom behind the aged wizard's words now.

 _'_ _It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Harry ... always remember that.'_

"Harry ... don't you hate him?" asked Dylan, looking incredulous.

Harry's eyes darkened as he felt his anger building. While it was true that he respected Tom Riddle, Voldemort was a whole different person.

"Yes, I hate him," he said in a low voice. "I've become soft. He knew _exactly_ where to push my buttons and if not for my skills and some amount of luck, I would not have escaped that graveyard alive. The incident tonight made me realise that the monster who I met tonight was not the little boy I have seen in my memories. Voldemort is a deranged, power-hungry rabid dog that needs to be _slaughtered_! And I swear in the name of Mother Magic, I'll get my revenge!"

"But Uncle Sirius has still not found the locket!" whispered Dylan urgently.

Harry paused. He had a point. They had no idea where the locket was and unless it was destroyed, Voldemort would never truly die.

"Maybe there are other ways to destroy him without having to destroy the locket. We'll have to look into it."

"He used you to try to get to me, you know," Harry added quietly after a pause.

"What do you mean he used me to get to you?"

"Voldemort has a lot of information about me and he was able to judge me accurately by observing my actions over the years and the relationships I have with different people. When I said he knew how to push my buttons, I meant it. You know how much I loathe child abuse. He tried to reach out to me and manipulate me through it; I could sense that. He also knows how much I care about you; how much you mean to me. He asked me what I would do if you joined him. Would I be willing to join him if you asked me to? To protect you?"

"I would _never_ do that!" spat Dylan passionately. "Do you take me for a fool? I know that my father, uncle and aunt would kill me the moment I step in front of them. Voldemort did this to you and there is no one more important in my life than you, Harry! You're my brother, my father, my hero, all wrapped in one. You have done so much for me, embraced me, loved me, and I won't turn my back on you – now or ever. So you can forget about me joining Voldemort and us being on opposite sides of the war, understood? You better get used to me being by your side all the time because I'm not leaving you! _I will_ _never_ _betray my brother!_ "

A hint of a smile formed on his lips. "No one could ask for a better brother than you, Dylan," Harry said softly, pinching the boy's cheek affectionately. "That really means a lot to me. Thank you."

Dylan grunted, his voice thick with emotion, as he helped the older Ravenclaw lie down again. Sitting down on the chair by the bed, he placed his head on the mattress as he tried to go back to sleep. He felt Harry's hand on his head, with his brother's fingers stroking his hair for a few minutes, and Dylan fell asleep, not knowing the conflicting emotions that were raging in the mind of his father regarding him, yearning to meet his son.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Severus Snape entered Dumbledore's office, looking pale and shaken, still twitching in several places. Dumbledore, who had been talking to someone on his mirror, deactivated it as he helped his spy sit down on the chair.

"I take it didn't go well?" asked Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord was pleased with the information I was able to give him," said Snape in a quiet voice. "But he was already well informed about a lot of things. Apparently, he did not waste time like we originally thought and has been preparing for over a year. As for the torture, it is something everyone had to go through. The Dark Lord is angry, _very_ angry that Death Eaters who had braved Azkaban for twelve years still came to find him but we did not."

"Hmm ..." said Dumbledore, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Any information about his plans for Harry?" he asked.

Snape's lip curled at the mention of Harry Potter. "The Dark Lord has given strict orders that he is not to be touched," said Snape emotionlessly. "I sense that something happened between the boy and the Dark Lord at the graveyard, though I'm not sure what. All the Death Eaters including Bellatrix agreed with him immediately. There are currently no plans for capturing the boy but no doubt the Dark Lord is planning something. Meanwhile, he wants to hear the prophecy in its entirety and asked me if I had found out the other half. He was – displeased – that I did not know it, so he now wants to gain access to the prophecy sphere that, according to Rookwood, is in the Department of Mysteries."

Dumbledore started out of the window, looking thoughtful, but did not comment.

"The prophecy orb might be in his plans, but there are various other matters which take precedence over this," said Snape. "I will also have to prove my loyalty to him by giving information on the Order. He expects results – similar to what happened in the last war."

Dumbledore grimaced. No, he made that mistake once and he wasn't about to do it again. The members of the Order of the Phoenix had all been battle-hardened warriors during the last war – the Prewett twins, Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Dorcas Meadows, Edger Bones, Marlene McKinnon, Frank and Alice Longbottom, James and Lily Potter – all of them were powerful and talented duellists. He had tried to draw more fire to the members of the Order, hoping they could fight in order to protect the general population but he had been wrong. They had all been picked off one by one by the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. That had been a very big and costly mistake, one which he didn't want to repeat.

"I'll have to think more about this," said Dumbledore. "But there is a way to make you more valuable to Voldemort. I assume he doesn't like the way the Aurors are being trained ever since Sirius became Minister?"

Snape did not answer.

Dumbledore felt a major headache coming on, but he could see no other alternative. If he had to save lives, other sacrifices had to be made. The students had survived this long without a good teacher – not counting the last two years – so they could do so for another year or two. Hopefully, they would be smart and study on their own, which was all he could hope for.

"How would you like to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Severus?"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"How are you feeling, Potter?" asked Madam Pomfrey, scanning him with her wand.

"I'm f-f-fine," Harry stammered, though his voice was still hoarse. "But I wouldn't mind something that would reduce the pain."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "All your internal injuries have been healed, but the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse will decrease only in about a month's time. There are still some lingering symptoms, like the occasional stuttering, body pain and headaches, but in time, I believe you will make a full recovery."

"What about the pain I feel in my lower regions?"

"Where exactly does it hurt?"

Harry grimaced, his face and neck gaining colour. "My genitals," he told her quietly. "And the s-s-surrounding area, I guess … and – well – I have a burning sensation in my arse."

"It's called the Faux Castration Curse, Potter," she replied grimly. "As you know, in wizarding culture, it's considered an insult to Mother Magic to damage any witch or wizard's reproductive organs. Even the worst criminals who would kill mercilessly wouldn't dare attempt it, since it's believed that it would taint one's bloodline by doing so. However, this curse, a very obscure curse, at that, seems to be an exception to them. It targets the genitals, known mainly to practitioners of the Dark Arts, and mimics the pain of castration. That's what you're currently experiencing."

Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath. "I must say I've never met someone with your level of pain tolerance, Potter. Anyone else would have begged me to sedate them so that they could sleep through it. Back to the curse; physically, your testicles have swelled and you're experiencing a constant erection that wouldn't go away. The effects have spread, which is what is causing the burning sensation you feel from the insides of your buttocks and upper thighs. This curse is so rare that it took us quite some time just to identify it. When you were asleep, the St Mungo's healers consulted various experts from around the world, but everyone came to the conclusion that there's no wand-based or potion-based counter-curse for this. There's a salve that helps with the Cruciatus exposure, to a degree, and that's the only option we have to decrease your pain. I'm really sorry, Potter, but you have to let the curse run its course."

Harry remained silent for a minute while Daphne and Dylan looked at him worriedly. Finally, he gave the matron a stiff nod.

With a flick of her wand, Madam Pomfrey summoned a glass jar which contained a silvery paste inside. "This is a salve that should lessen the pain. Have someone apply this all over your body for the next six to eight weeks for the Cruciatus exposure. For the Faux Castration Curse, use the salve liberally and apply it on your genitals, inner thighs and the anus at least four to five times a day. Keep yourself clean and unclothed, as the charms on your garments will interfere with the healing process. Now is not the time to be shy. If you're in a public place and being nude isn't an option, I suggest you use clothes that don't have magic weaved into them but keep it brief. Also, I know I'm asking for a lot, but I must insist that you don't overexert yourself for at least the next five days. Healer's orders!"

Daphne silently accepted the jar offered to her. After instructing them on how to use it, Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. Dylan removed the hospital blanket covering Harry's body and helped him stand upright. Both hissed as they saw the whip marks that covered the area from just below the shoulders on his back to his upper thighs. There were more whip marks across Harry's torso, and his testicles had indeed swelled to more than twice its usual size, having been cursed by Rodolphus to bring more agony to the already injured wizard. By a stroke of luck, however, his penis seemed to be physically unaffected, but the effects of the curse ensured that it was still painfully erect. The other wounds on his body were a different matter altogether.

"I really hope you heal quickly," the younger boy muttered, wincing at the sight before him. There was no telling how much pain Harry was in, but both knew that it wasn't in his character to complain. Dylan applied the salve all over his brother's backside while Daphne did the same to his chest and stomach. Fifteen minutes later, when it was time to deal with the effects of the Faux Castration Curse, Harry squirmed uneasily. Daphne patiently coaxed him to relax and instructed him to spread his legs wider for them, but he refused to do so.

"I'm your fiancée," Daphne said softly, when she realised just how uncomfortable he was. "And Dylan is your brother. I know this is embarrassing for you, Harry, but don't you want the pain to reduce?"

"I should be doing this on my own!"

"If Madam Pomfrey thought you were capable of that, she would have said so. You can do it yourself in a week or two, once you've healed enough. But for now, let us help you. Please realise that it's only us; only me and Dylan, no one else. You've never been shy about your body before –"

"I'm not shy about being naked in front of you both! It's –"

"– the feeling of helplessness," Dylan finished, looking crestfallen and guilty once more. "I get it, Harry, I really do. But you're in obvious pain, we both see it! And I know that I would be embarrassed if I were in your position too, but I beg of you … just for the next couple of months, let us help you. _Please_ , Harry? Only if you heal will you be able to fight Voldemort."

Exhaling in frustration – and coughing heavily once more – he reluctantly spread his legs wider.

As he expected, the searing pain shooting up his body became worse when Daphne alternated between stroking his erect penis and caressing his testicles while applying the silvery paste, with Dylan lathering it on the insides of thighs and buttocks as Madam Pomfrey had instructed him to do. Despite how generously his brother had covered the area with the salve, Harry's anus still felt like it was being exposed to open flame. The pain from his genitals, even from the slightest touch by Daphne's fingers, made him flinch. He had his eyes closed in obvious embarrassment, face burning, and his form trembling. His breath hitched every few seconds in agony.

After ten painful and highly embarrassing minutes later, the two of them withdrew. Just as they helped him sit down on the bed comfortably, the door to the hospital wing unlocked with a _click_ and Sirius, Amelia and Dumbledore entered. All three looked horrified as they took in the various injuries the Triwizard champion had suffered. Unperturbed by his state of undress, Harry exchanged hugs with his godfather and honorary godmother.

"How're you feeling?" asked Amelia softly, tussling his hair affectionately.

Harry coughed violently again and the pain in his chest increased. After pausing for a few moments, he replied in a hoarse voice, "I've heard that question too many times and again, I'm fine, relatively speaking. Exhausted, but fine. Don't worry, Aunt Amy. I'll heal in a few days."

Sirius grimaced; this was par for the course for Harry Potter. The boy hated feeling weak and thus, never acknowledged the pain he obviously felt. He felt incredibly guilty for his godson's current state.

"What happened after I came back to Hogwarts? What's going on?"

After taking a deep breath, Sirius began. "We reacted as soon as you arrived. Thanks to your warning, Barty Crouch has been captured and interrogated. He revealed a lot of information, but Voldemort was quite smart in placing him there. Crouch Junior had an entire year to go through classified information, including details about the Auror force, Muggle-born homes and Ministry ward schemes, to name a few. The biggest leak – and the most dangerous one – is the configuration of the sensor net around Britain and Ireland. We still don't know the extent of the information leak because there is a secrecy oath blocking it, but we hope to get there soon. But we can discuss that later. First, we would like to know what happened the minute you touched the Portkey."

Harry nodded, gripped Daphne's hand tightly, and began explaining what had happened in a monotonous voice. He wondered why Dumbledore's eyes seemed to light up in triumph when he mentioned that Voldemort took his blood for the ritual; as far as he was concerned, that was the biggest disaster of the night. They all remained silent after his speech, while Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

"We might get a better picture of what we're dealing with if we can examine Harry's memory of the event."

"No," said Harry flatly. "I won't be sharing my memory of the event with anyone."

Sirius and Amelia looked at each other worriedly, contemplating on whether they needed to send Harry to a Mind Healer again. Dumbledore simply raised his eyebrows, looking at Harry introspectively. There was something in that memory which Harry did not want him to see; he could sense it.

"There is no information in the memory which is relevant to you. He did not talk about his plans with me but you already have a pretty good idea, I'm sure. There is nothing in that memory that will interest you, sir."

"We've already got people working on it," Amelia took over. "We are monitoring the borders for any incoming giants, but I can already say that we will have no luck with the werewolves. Dementors ... we're still thinking about what to do because right now they're still at Azkaban. Anyway, a press statement was given this morning about Voldemort's resurrection. People are in denial, but it won't be for long. Panic will grip them soon enough and the country will be in turmoil."

"I have contacted the members of the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore quietly. "We will have a meeting soon to see what can be done. The first thing we need to do is find a place to hold our meetings. Hogwarts is not secure; there are too many chances for the information being leaked. What we need is a secure home with established wards which I can put under the Fidelius Charm."

Sirius' eye twitched in annoyance as he did not miss the subtle suggestion behind those words. How he wished he could smack that sanctimonious bastard in the face, but he couldn't! Dumbledore was the Chief Warlock, a post nearly as powerful as his own. Even if he hated Dumbledore and would like nothing more than to throw his wrinkled old arse in Azkaban, he was more useful working for their side. The old man also wanted Voldemort dead. If only they could get their hands on that blasted locket! But Sirius was clear about one thing – this would only be a temporary alliance. After Voldemort and his Death Eaters were gone and done for, he would ensure that somehow, Dumbledore lost his positions one by one. He was not the Minister of Magic for nothing.

He may hate Dumbledore, but right now, Voldemort was a bigger threat.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Everyone in the Great Hall was reading the _Magical Daily_ in utter silence. The headlines sent shivers down their spine.

 _LORD VOLDEMORT RETURNS!_

 _Press conference held by Minister of Magic Sirius Black confirms news!_

 _BOY-WHO-LIVED KIDNAPPED AFTER HE_ _WON THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

 _Triwizard Cup turned into a Portkey to kidnap Harry Potter_

 _HARRY POTTER NEARLY TORTURED TO DEATH!_

 _Reports say that he is recovering at Hogwarts – news of his extensive injuries unconfirmed, but experts speculate multiple exposures to the Cruciatus Curse; cuts on his body suggest he was tortured with a knife and whipped several times!_

 _"_ _Dangerous times ahead – be cautious," warns Lady Amelia Black,_ _Head of the D.M.L.E._

 _Barty Crouch Senior impersonated by his supposed dead son for a year!_

 _Why did no one detect it?_

 _PANIC GRIPS THE MASSES!_

 _SECURITY AT HOGWARTS_ _TO INCREASE OVER THE SUMMER_

 _Key members of the Ministry and Wizengamot are to be_ _apprehended for being Death Eaters_

 _How much did we screw up at the end of the last war?_

 _LORDS MALFOY, NOTT, AVERY_ _WANTED FOR QUESTIONING_

 _New evidence points to the fact that they_ _may have been willing Death Eaters all along_

 _LUCIUS MALFOY BEHIND THE OPENING OF THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS AT HOGWARTS TWO YEARS AGO_

 _Wanted for questioning regarding the matter_

Theodore Nott placed his newspaper down and buried his face in his hands. He had hoped for years that this would never happen. Now there was no escaping his fate. He looked at Blaise Zabini who was giving him a speculative yet knowing look.

"What are you going to do?" asked Blaise.

"Is running away an option?" asked Theo wryly. "Because if I don't, I have only two options in front of me – join him or be killed. Hopefully, Father would tell the Dark Lord that I am not Death Eater material but I doubt it. Like Dylan and Draco, both my father and grandfather were Death Eaters and the Dark Lord would take my refusal as a personal insult."

Blaise hummed in agreement. "You're still too young for him to recruit," he observed. "You're only fifteen, so you still have time. I doubt the Dark Lord would mark anyone who is still at school. Hopefully, by then, he would be defeated."

Theo looked at his best friend incredulously. "Defeated? Did you look at the state Harry was in when he arrived?"

"We don't know what happened there," said Blaise calmly. "You know how talented Harry is, I'm sure he would have put up more of a fight had he not been caught off guard. Either way, there is nothing wrong in hoping for it. You may not be looking forward to serving the Dark Lord, but dear Draco is."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry grunted in pain and exhaustion as he placed his head on Daphne's lap, closing his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her fingers stroking his hair. They were in a compartment in the Hogwarts Express, returning to London. Harry was glad that he had finished his N.E.W.T.s because he would have been too distracted to write his exams now. He tried to sleep, but his body still ached. Opposite to him, Dylan and Astoria were sitting close to each other, speaking in soft tones. Harry's mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Theo this morning. He knew the Slytherin's position would be difficult, but he hoped that he could end the war before his friend would be forced to take the mark. Just as he closed his eyes, the compartment door was rudely yanked open.

"You'll pay for this, Potter," said Draco in a low voice. "You and your bloody godfather can't send Aurors after my father to have him arrested! The Dark Lord is back and he will teach filthy half-bloods like you a lesson. With him in charge, the balance in the world shall soon be restored."

Harry got up slowly and looked at Draco with calm, cold eyes. "Take a seat, cousin," he said quietly.

"Why?" Draco sneered. "Want to negotiate terms for your surrender?"

"Draco, don't act like a child and take a seat, your goons included. I have faced and duelled Voldemort, so you don't scare me."

Draco narrowed his eyes in anger but sat down; Crabbe and Goyle looking clueless but curious. Harry waved his hand and the door sealed shut with a silencing charm in place.

"Yes, the Dark Lord is back," said Harry, crossing his legs gracefully and looked at the three of them with critical eyes. "And we are at a crossroad. Tell me, Draco, why do you hate me? For the first two years, we ignored each other. I was fine with that because quite frankly, I didn't care about you. But then you started annoying Dylan and I don't take kindly to anyone insulting my brother –"

"He's not your brother," said Draco imperiously.

The temperature in the compartment dropped as Harry's emerald orbs darkened. Dylan's grey eyes were hard as he coolly observed the meeting.

"After I threatened you to back off, you wisely did, and yes, it was me," Harry continued, ignoring the gaping face of Draco. "But you started it again after my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. I didn't have a problem with those stupid badges because they were so childish that it wasn't even worth my time. My brother, however, felt differently and so he acted. The end result was your own Head of House punishing you."

Draco gritted his teeth. This conversation was not going the way he wanted.

"You have been raised in a pampered environment, Draco. You have no idea of the real world out there. You have never experienced hardship, pain and hunger like how Dylan and I have. You are excited at the prospect of becoming a Death Eater, but let me tell you right now, Draco, it's not going to be easy. You expect that being a Death Eater would be the greatest achievement of your life, but the fact of the matter is that it would destroy you and your family. Take heed of my advice and stay out of this war and the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy will live to see another day. Don't make a mistake that could get you and your mother killed because this war is going to be brutal."

"Are you saying that I can't handle it?" spat Draco, shaking in anger. "I am capable, Potter, to handle anything! I'm one of the top students in my year! I am not a stupid weakling that got beaten up by a bunch of worthless Muggles like you and your _brother_. I don't need your advice because I am going to be on the winning side! And the day will come when you realise how great I am!"

"He does not give rewards, cousin," Harry said finally as Draco got up. "He hands out more punishments than rewards. All I am asking is that you think about it. I'm not asking you to join my side, just to distance yourself from me, Dumbledore and Voldemort. If you do, you have a chance to survive this war. If not ..."

Draco glared at Harry as he walked out, slamming the compartment door close as he went. Crabbe and Goyle were giving Harry funny looks as they passed.

"Trying to prevent him from taking the mark?" asked Daphne quietly.

"I tried, but it obviously didn't work. He's not a killer; trust me, I know what I'm talking about. Not everyone can take a life and Draco certainly can't. Yes, he's a smart boy, but Voldemort honestly doesn't care about that. If he becomes a Death Eater, he is doomed to fail. All I can hope is that he does not involve himself in the war personally. I hope he realises the truth before it is too late."

"Draco is not Death Eater material; he's just a pampered little boy who is too confused by the world around him, doing his best to please his parents. If something drastic happens in his life, he'll break into pieces. I've observed that over the past four years and so has Sirius. He sees the world in black and white, which, unfortunately, most others do as well. You can't fault him when Dumbledore and Voldemort are guilty of the same. I was guilty of the same too but I came to realise over the past few years that everything in life is in shades of grey. Draco's life isn't going to be easy now that Voldemort is back. Theo is mature enough to understand what's going on, but Draco hasn't realised it yet."

"And I was actually attracted to him? I must have hit my head on something," muttered Astoria to herself, but Dylan heard it. A small smile formed its way to his lips as he turned towards the window.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I apologise for the delay in uploading a new chapter; I was very busy this week. I'm not sure how the Dark Mark works, but I like Teufel1987's theory of it not being visible to anyone other than Voldemort and the Death Eaters. But in canon, can others see the mark too? If that were the case, it would be quite easy to identify who the Death Eaters were. I'm assuming the secret of the mark was leaked to the masses during the war, yet no one could actually see it unless it burned. Anway, enjoy the chapter and thank you for the reviews!_**


	30. The Order of the Phoenix

**_Chapter 30_**

 ** _The Order of the Phoenix_**

Harry flicked his wands towards the other side of the lake on the grounds of Potter Castle; he was practising duel casting, something which he was determined to perfect after his duel with Voldemort. The two fire whips decapitated the targets while he finished firing a spell at the practice dummy that was behind him. Sweating and panting, Harry collapsed on the ground, looking tired. He had been practising for several hours straight. It had been a month since he and Dylan had returned home from school and a lot had happened in that time.

After interrogating Barty Crouch and de-briefing Harry, Sirius and Amelia had issued arrest warrants against all those Death Eaters who Voldemort had identified in the graveyard. Unfortunately, all of them had done a runner and had disappeared underground. Sending a team of Aurors to Little Hangleton graveyard after the place had been identified proved to be useless as there was no evidence present other than traces of a dark magic ritual. Unknown to them, a large manor which used to be present on top of a hill in the village had disappeared – and no one in the village even remembered its existence or knew where it was. Dumbledore, who had tried to investigate it had realised that Voldemort had used a Fidelius Charm on the house - which he could not remember - and had turned into his headquarters.

Meanwhile, Voldemort had not wasted any time in showing the wizarding population that he was back. Barty Crouch Junior might have been executed by the Ministry but the information he had managed to acquire for Voldemort combined with the information Rookwood had been able to provide had made him smuggle giants into Britain without triggering the sensor net. There had already been multiple attacks and mass-Muggle killing, making the Ministry scramble to erase the memories of various Muggles and their contraptions – if the International Statute of Secrecy was breached, things would turn very ugly, very fast. Sirius had also informed the Muggle Prime Minister of what was happening – Magical Britain was in a state of war.

The Dementors had also sworn allegiance to Voldemort so now there were thousands of those foul creatures roaming all over the mainland. Sirius had any remaining Dementors at Azkaban destroyed with the use of Fiendfyre and then dumped their remains in the sea; a few hundred Dementors were destroyed, but there were too many of them out of control to capture them all. The Ministry had grown too dependent on Dementors over the last few centuries for them to change in such a short time. There had been several incidents of Dementor attacks on Muggles, but there had been no attacks on any witches and wizards – yet.

Not everything was bad though because the Vampires and Goblins had decided to stay neutral in the war, much to Sirius and Amelia's relief and Voldemort's frustration. There had been no werewolf attacks as yet but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. On the political side, Sirius had little success because the members of the Wizengamot were terrified to vote on any bill. If they took a stand against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, they would be the next ones to be killed. There had already been an attempt on Rufus Scrimgeour's life and people did not want to be on the Death Eater's target list.

Miller's Mirrors were proving to be an outstanding source for creating awareness with the public. The Ministry knew they couldn't broadcast anything which the Death Eaters wouldn't find out anyway, so they used it as a means to inform the common witches and wizards of the country in how to defend themselves and their families from the Death Eaters, Dementors, Inferi and a host of other things. A retired Auror would teach defence and offensive spells to the public through the recording crystals so that they would be able to protect themselves in case of an attack.

Meanwhile, Harry had been training extensively since he came back to Potter Castle. Dylan, ever Harry's shadow, had decided that he too wanted to train and help his brother so he began practising against the duelling dummies as well. Harry had also lent books to Daphne for her to study and she trained with him whenever he was in a teaching mode. Harry was an outstanding teacher, something which both Daphne and Dylan readily agreed.

There had been a few attacks on the lesser populated magical shopping districts, but it hadn't come to Diagon Alley yet. Harry was also curious about what Voldemort was up to. Clearly, he had something up his sleeve because he had not taken such a serious stance against the magical world yet. The security provided to the Minister of Magic and the heads of different departments were also beefed up considerably. Sirius, Amelia and Rigel were in grave danger and were top targets along with Harry. He had also raised the war wards around Potter Castle and all its defences so that in case of an attack, he would be able to defend himself.

Just as he was staring off into the distance, he sensed someone sit next to him on the ground.

"Finished with your training?" asked Dylan, panting, his body covered in sweat. "Those practice dummies can really tire me out. I've been using it on Level Three and the spells are supposed to be lethal."

"How long were you able to hold out before you got hit?"

"Fifteen minutes," Dylan replied smugly.

"Don't get overconfident," warned Harry. "Those are just enchantments; when you're fighting someone those curses will actually be lethal, not flashes of light."

"Sorry," muttered Dylan.

"It's fine. I'm actually proud of you, so well done. I just don't want you to become overconfident. I found out the hard way that overconfidence leads you to your downfall. I don't want you to face another Lockhart or Voldemort to learn your lesson."

The two of them were silent for a while, staring at the swans which moved in the water of the lake on the expansive grounds of the castle. Birds chirped nearby, the grass was green, and they could feel a light breeze; it was so peaceful.

"It's hard to imagine that there is a war going on outside, isn't it?" said Dylan softly. "It's like we are in a different world as compared to all the chaos going on outside."

Harry hummed. "There were two more Dementor attacks on Muggles in Nottingham," he said quietly.

"What? B-But that's just – just –"

"– less than twenty kilometres from here? Yes," said Harry. "I'm going to teach you the Patronus Charm. It's actually not as difficult as people say it is. It might take some time but you'll be able to do it. Like all forms of magic, it needs intent. You need to _want_ to conjure a guardian to help you against the Dementors. Also, this also requires an emotional component like most complex spells based on ancient magic. The Killing Curse, for example, is very difficult to cast because you need to feel the amount of hatred needed to kill. The Cruciatus Curse, on the other hand, would work only when you want to cause pain, you want the other person to suffer. Similarly –"

"Wait, if these curses have such properties, then why do you believe that magic should not be classified? I know that you don't put much into the theory of light and dark magic," said Dylan.

"Good question," Harry praised him, nodding in approval. "Tell me, Dylan. What if you have a patient in front of you who has been bitten by a snake and you can't identify the source? The poison is spreading through the patient's nerves and you need to know where it is originating from so that you can contain it. This technique was used before the more modern healing spells and magical technology were invented. Or what if a patient's heart stops beating due to unnatural means? The Crucaitus Curse can help save the patient's life in both cases."

"The Imperius Curse would greatly help in cases of healing patients who need to guide the healer to the place of injury. It was used primarily in cases of brain surgery and healing. The Killing Curse is a quick, painless death for animals which people use for food or maybe a quick death for patients who are suffering constantly. It may sound harsh, but if my parents had been tortured into insanity like Frank and Alice Longbottom, if the final decision-making power had been vested in me, I would not have let them suffer like that. I would have authorised a medically induced death so that they could be in peace. I wouldn't want them to suffer just because I was selfish in not wanting to let go. Augusta Longbottom never really understood the effect that had on Neville, having to see his parents in that state over and over again since the time he was a baby."

Dylan stood up and walked closer to the lake, dipping his ankles in the water. "You were saying about the Patronus charm?"

"Similarly, the Patronus Charm requires positive emotions to power it, backed by a strong positive memory. Joy, serenity, happiness, love ... these emotions would help you create the perfect Patronus backed by a strong memory. Think of a time when you were the happiest. Let the emotions flow through you and you will be able to cast it."

Dylan nodded. Lifting his wand upward, he chanted, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

A lot of silvery mist flew out of his wand, but there was no distinctive animal like Harry's. Dylan tried, pushing more magic into it but it didn't work. He collapsed on the ground, panting.

"That was bloody exhausting!" he said loudly.

"It is," said Harry. "You were already drained after practising for so long so you couldn't concentrate. Come on, let's play some Quidditch."

A week later, Harry and Dylan were in the family drawing room of the castle. Harry was sitting on the sofa with Daphne next to him as they observed Dylan. The boy was close but something held him back.

 _"Expecto Patronum!"_

The silvery mist appeared again but just as a creature was about to form, it disappeared. Dylan groaned as he sat on the couch opposite to the couple. "Why wouldn't this work?" he shouted in frustration.

"Your memory is not powerful enough; maybe you are not letting the emotions flow through you or you are just not connecting with the memory," said Daphne, frowning slightly. "Come on, Dylan. Try it again," she said encouragingly as Dylan got up and walked to the centre of the room. They watched as Dylan raised his wand and said, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

The silvery mist appeared again but Dylan's eyes rested on Harry and Daphne. He thought about how much he loved them, he thought about his Uncle Sirius, Aunt Amelia, Astoria ...

The silvery mist contorted as a creature began to form. Powerful wings emerged along with sharp talons and a beak. Dylan watched in awe as his Patronus took the form of a golden eagle ... a very familiar golden eagle – right down to the scar above the right eye.

"That's you," whispered Daphne as she looked at Harry. She smiled as she saw the happiness that was shining in Harry's eyes when he realised what his brother's Patronus took the shape of.

"I don't know what to say," said Harry softly. "I'm touched, Dylan. Thank you."

"I didn't choose it but if there had to be someone to protect me from soul-sucking demons, it would have to be you," said Dylan grinning.

Harry chuckled. "Alright, now let's start with your Animagus training."

Daphne and Dylan's eyes lit up when Harry said that. Sitting down opposite to them, Harry began explaining the process to them. Hopefully, they would be able to master the transformation within a year.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry grumbled mentally as his feet touched the ground at Grimmauld Place, London. He still had not been able to talk to Dumbledore about the next academic year. He had gotten his N.E.W.T. results and had scored an Outstanding in all seven subjects with extra credit. He had written to a few of his teachers to inquire about apprenticeship but all of them, except Professor Slughorn, said that he would also need to speak to Dumbledore first since they were primarily teachers at Hogwarts. To talk to the headmaster who was supposed to be very busy, Harry and Dylan were here at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

"How in Merlin's name did you escape your bodyguards, Uncle Sirius?" asked Dylan curiously.

Sirius smirked. "I'm not a Marauder for nothing, Dylan. The Aurors are under the impression that I'm still at Black Manor. My bodyguards are loyal but we can't risk anyone knowing the location of headquarters. Here, read this and memorise it," he said, handing them a slip of paper in his handwriting.

 _The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found_ _at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Once the two brothers read it, Sirius burnt the piece of paper. No sooner did they think of the place, a house materialised between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing the others out of its way. Sirius quickly led them to the front door as he tapped the handle. There were a series of clicks as the door opened, leading them inside.

A dim light illuminated the hallway which while not very inviting, was at least somewhat clean. "I can see why you did not want to live here," said Harry casually as they walked forward.

Sirius snorted. "This place wasn't this bad when I was growing up, you know. It used to be very elegant and tasteful but ever since my mother died, it has become terrible. All the enchantments around the house have mutated with the wild magic in the air to create strange curses and a home for magical pests. I asked the other house-elves to finally come here to do some basic cleaning. It had remained like this because I don't usually come here and even the other elves don't want to brave my mother's old house elf; nasty little thing. He hasn't cleaned anything in here for ages and you can see the results. Anyway, there's going to be a meeting soon, so do you want to come?"

"And be asked to join Dumbledore's little vigilante club?" said Harry, rolling his eyes. "No thanks. I don't work for the man and I never will. I'm actually shocked that you provided him with a house."

"Voldemort is our biggest priority right now," said Sirius grimly. "And as much as I hate to say it, things would be much smoother if I work with the Chief Warlock without any issues. This house was a waste anyway but well protected and Dumbledore wanted to add the Fidelius Charm too and since I'm the Secret Keeper I thought, why not? Go up the stairs, boys, and you'll find one of the rooms clean ... I hope."

"It's fine, Uncle Sirius," Dylan shrugged. He observed some of the scowling portraits. "Hmm, these portraits aren't so bad at Black Manor. Most of them may not be chatty, but they don't act like _this_. I know for a fact that Orion Black's portrait actually likes me."

"Again, the wild magic and enchantments gone bad have affected the portraits too," said Sirius in exasperation. "What that elf has been doing, I'll never know. By the way, I forgot to inform you that the Weasleys are staying here until the end of the holidays. I don't know why but it seems their home is not warded yet and Dumbledore says they are a major target. Either way, as long as they can take care of themselves, I don't care. I'll call you in an hour or two."

With that, Sirius disappeared down the hallway while Harry and Dylan were examining some of the rooms. They climbed up the stairs to the first-floor landing when they heard a _crack_ as a door opened to the side.

"Harry, Dylan!" Fred greeted them with a broad smile.

"We didn't think you would grace us with your presence," said George, grinning widely. "Come on in."

The two of them entered the room and looked around. "Well, at least this room is clean," muttered Dylan. From behind, he heard a voice saying, "What are _they_ doing here?"

"I'm not here to see you, Weasley," said Harry indifferently. "I came here to talk to Dumbledore but I was told they were having their meeting, so I have to stay."

Ron's ears turned pink as he began sulking. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the twins who shrugged. "He wanted to be part of the Order but Mum and everyone else refused," explained George.

"Also, Mum has been forcing us to clean this house," said Fred. "It's like waging a war, let me tell you."

"Are you crazy?" asked Harry incredulously. "No offence but with this level of magical decay, no one without experience in dealing with curses should be going anywhere near those rooms! I wouldn't allow Dylan to go in there and your brother certainly shouldn't."

Dylan frowned. "Is it really –"

"Ron, I still can't get into the library!" said a very familiar voice. Dylan observed that Harry's eyes darkened slightly but no one else seemed to have noticed it.

"Nice to see you, Granger," said Harry cordially. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione scowled when she saw Harry. "I'm Ron and Ginny's friend," she said in her usual bossy tone. "Mrs Weasley figured that it would not be safe for me to stay in the Muggle world. I might be an important target because of the Death Eaters going after Muggle-borns."

Harry and Dylan locked eyes with each other, both of them thinking the same thing. Voldemort had other things to do rather than go specifically after Hermione Granger, whose self-importance was not something others shared. However, she was right in that Muggle-borns were in danger, though Harry doubted Voldemort would target them in large numbers this soon. He had bigger fish to fry, namely the Ministry of Magic.

"So, who's in this Order anyway?" asked Dylan, breaking the silence.

"Lots of people," Fred shrugged. "We've tried to listen to the meetings but the door is well-warded. We've met several people already, so we have a pretty good idea. There are Dumbledore's old friends like Doge and Moody –"

"Great," muttered Harry.

"Then there are a few more Aurors, Hogwarts teachers like McGonagall, Snape –"

"Snape?" exclaimed Dylan, scowling.

" _Professor_ Snape," Hermione corrected him.

"Like that arsehole deserves that title," he sneered. "What is he doing for the Order?"

"He's a spy," Harry answered quietly, leaning against the wall casually, his ankles crossed. "He's supposed to be spying on Voldemort because Dumbledore is convinced that Snape is on _his_ side."

"And what do you believe?" asked George curiously.

"Snape is not on Dumbledore's side. Dumbledore is taking a very risky gamble to accommodate the greasy git."

"And how would you know that?" Hermione snapped at him. "Professor Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape, so that should be enough for everyone!"

"I don't trust Dumbledore either, Granger, so that would be a little difficult," Harry shot back, rolling his eyes.

"How could you say that?" shrieked Hermione indignantly. "That's Professor Dumbledore you're talking about! He's the greatest wizard ever! The only one You-Know-Who ever feared!"

Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "The only one Voldemort ever feared?" he repeated disbelievingly. "Oh, please! Voldemort does not fear Dumbledore. He loathes him, true, and would do absolutely anything possible to get rid of the man, but _fear_ him? No. That's just propaganda spouted by Dumbledore's supporters."

"Why don't you continue?" said Dylan, shutting off Hermione's rant as she opened her mouth furiously to recite 'facts' she had read from books.

"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Then we have our brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, though Percy is only here to curry favour with Dumbledore and Minister Black."

"How is that?" asked Dylan curiously. "I thought Bill was in Egypt and Charlie in Romania?"

"Well, yeah, but Dumbledore wants international witches and wizards in case the war goes outside Britain," said George with a shrug. "Bill got a transfer here to the London branch of Gringotts. He wasn't too happy, but there are other compensations."

"Like what?"

"Remember Fleur Delacour? Apparently, she wants to be a curse-breaker herself. She applied to Gringotts for a job along with personal training in the field, was placed here in London and guess who she got assigned to?"

"Bill?" asked Dylan, his eyebrow raised.

"Spot on," said George, grinning widely. "From what we've managed to find out, they spent a few weeks together and decided to go on a date and, well, it seems to be going well."

"Yes!" Dylan cried happily as he pumped his fist in the air.

"She was never a problem, Dylan," said Harry wryly. "There's no need to be _that_ happy."

"Speak for yourself! I can't wait to tell Daphne about this!"

Harry rolled his eyes as the door of the bedroom opened and Ginny Weasley walked in. It took her several seconds to realise that there were strangers in the room and when her eyes landed on Harry, her face turned pink.

"Hi Harry!" she said in a high-pitched voice.

"Hello," Harry greeted her politely.

"Well, if you'll excuse me," said Hermione standing up. "I'll see if I can get into the library again."

"You can't," said Dylan shortly.

"And why not?" demanded Hermione angrily.

"Because you are not Black by birth or have any close blood relatives who are Blacks. Unless the Head of House gives you permission, you won't be able to enter the library or any other family warded area."

"And how would you know that?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

Dylan simply raised an eyebrow. "My brother and I live with Uncle Sirius and Aunt Amelia half the time," he said. "I'm not a Black by blood so I needed permission. Harry already has Black blood because of his grandmother but his position as godson gives him automatic access."

Hermione sat down, looking frustrated. "What's the point of having a library if other people can't enter it?"

"It's a _family_ library, Granger," said Harry quietly, "not a public library. Family books and grimoires are heavily guarded by the members."

"It's the same way at Potter Castle," Dylan shrugged. "I couldn't enter the library or the Lord's study until Harry keyed me into the wards."

"Potter _Castle_?" asked Ron incredulously.

Harry shrugged casually.

Just then, the door to the room opened and Mrs Weasley poked her head inside. "The meeting is over kids, you can come down now. Be careful while coming down the stairs and don't make any noise. We don't want to wake anything."

" _Wake_ anything?" whispered Dylan incredulously. Harry casually put an arm around Dylan's shoulders as they walked out of the room. Just as they were taking the last step to the ground floor, there was a loud sound.

 _CRASH!_

"Tonks!" cried Mrs Weasley in exasperation as she set right the Troll's leg stand but before anyone could say anything, there was a horrible, ear-splitting, blood-curdling screech.

Walburga Black's portrait was screaming at the top of her voice and as she did, the other portraits began to scream too. Dylan covered his ears with his hands and looked expectantly at Harry.

 _BANG!_

Harry shot off a cannon blast from his fingers as the portraits quietened down, looking at him in shock.

"If I hear even a whisper from any of you, you'll be very sorry indeed," said Harry dangerously, sparks coming from his fingers.

"And just who do you think you are, to demand that of me in _my_ home?" screeched Walburga's portrait.

"Harry Potter."

"James' son?" she yelled furiously. "That blood-traitor married a Mudblood! _Out_! The House of Black does not entertain filthy half-bloods like you! Filth! Scum! Oh what a surprise, my filthy blood-traitor of my son is _also_ here! Shame of my flesh! Get out, Sirius, and never come back again! How dare you all befoul the house of my fathers –"

 _BANG!_

People came running towards the source of the commotion and were startled to see Harry pointing his wand at Walburga's portrait, the tip glowing.

"Insult my parents again, Lady Black, and you'll see exactly how proficient and talented I am in the Dark Arts," said Harry coldly. "The wards you have put up might prevent any damage to the canvas against most spells, but I'd like to see if it holds up against something as deadly as Fiendfyre. I could burn this house down in an instant and I'm sure my father wouldn't mind at all. If I use you as an example, the rest of the portraits will think twice before insulting my parents."

"Your blood-traitor of a nephew married a Mudblood, yes," sneered Harry at the shell-shocked portrait. "But that Mudblood was actually the Heiress of House Slytherin. After my mother Lily Potter died, I inherited her title. You should be honoured that I have bothered to grace my presence in your home, Lady Black, because I am Lord Slytherin!"

Walburga's eyes bulged out when she saw the Gryffindor and Slytherin rings along with the Potter Lordship ring on his fingers. "That blood-traitor you call your son is also the Lord of House Black," continued Harry angrily. "I do not take kindly to anyone insulting the man whom I love as much as my own father. Sirius Black is the Minister of Magic and has brought more glory to this family than you and your ancestors ever did. You will remain silent and go to sleep, is that clear, _Grandmother_?"

"Yes," said Walburga quietly.

Harry simply flicked his wand and the curtains snapped shut, plunging the corridor in silence. No one uttered a word, too awed or horrified to speak. Some were blinking in surprise when Harry referred to Sirius as his dad but none of them questioned him. The reason for the change in title was due to Harry coming to terms with what had happened at the graveyard; having come so close to death, with Voldemort having nearly manipulated him into joining his side, had struck a chord in Harry. It was only because of his family that he had managed to hold on and not be swayed by Voldemort's offer. Without Sirius and Amelia in his life over the past four years, things would have turned out much differently for him, not all of them good. This was the reason Harry had begun to refer to them as his Mum and Dad.

Sirius and Amelia had been reduced to tears the first time Harry had called them that. While Harry would always love and cherish his birth parents, he also came to regard Sirius and Amelia as his adoptive parents too and if someone were to so blatantly insult any of one them, either James and Lily or Sirius and Amelia, it was his duty as their son to defend their honour.

"That was bloody brilliant!" said George in awe.

"Scary, but brilliant," agreed Fred.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen is why you don't mess with Harry Potter," said Dylan, grinning widely.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I must say I didn't expect you to reason with my mother," said Sirius, snickering. "You spoke her language and shut her up. I've said this before but she would have killed to have you as a son. Life certainly would have been interesting in this house had you been here all those years ago. Father, Regulus and I would have definitely enjoyed it."

"She's not the only one," muttered Harry, remembering Voldemort's offer just a month ago.

Not everyone was impressed, though. Mrs Weasley looked horrified. "Y-You know the Dark Arts?" she whispered, her face slightly pale.

Harry didn't bother dignifying her question with a response. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked.

"He's already left," said Sirius, sounding annoyed. "I told him that you wanted to speak to him but he said that he will be back in an hour or so; something important to take care of, apparently. He's suffered an injury of some kind, so he's probably gone to Madam Pomfrey."

Harry's eye twitched in annoyance but he silently followed his father to the kitchen. There was a long table with people milling around it. Harry sat down on a chair opposite to Sirius, with Dylan sitting next to him. Dylan had taken to emulating his brother by observing his behaviour, so unconsciously, quite a few of Harry's mannerisms were inculcated into his everyday life; the facial expressions, the way he carried himself – all of which were seen in Dylan as he sat down.

"Harry, Dylan," said Remus cordially as he shook hands with the two. "How have you both been?"

"Just fine, Remus, thanks," said Harry, his face impassive again.

"Lord Potter, it's nice to see you again," Mr Weasley greeted him with a warm smile.

"It is a pleasure, Mr Weasley."

"Let me introduce you to everyone," said Sirius quickly. "Harry, Dylan, this is Arthur Weasley and his oldest son Bill, both of whom you have already met at the Quidditch World Cup, his other son Percy who works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, your cousin Nymphadora Tonks –"

" _Don't_ call me Nymphadora, Sirius," she growled, her hair turning red. "It's Tonks."

"Hi Tonks!" said Dylan brightly.

"Hey Dylan!" replied Tonks excitedly. Her smile became predatory as she asked innocently, "Now what is this I hear about you and this girl called Astoria Greengrass?"

Dylan just gaped at her in shock but once he recovered, he rounded on his brother. "You told her?" he said, looking at him accusingly.

Harry looked at Tonks in slight disbelief. "What part of keep it a secret didn't you understand?"

"Oh, come on, Harry!" Tonks huffed. "Like I wasn't going to tease him after you told me about it."

"Moving on," said Sirius loudly, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"As you already know, Tonks is an Auror and so are Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones," continued Sirius. "Then we have Elphias Doge and Alastor Moody, Sturgis Podmore, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Mundungus Fletcher and Molly Weasley."

"Everyone, this is Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange."

Everyone in the room suddenly felt uncomfortable when Dylan was introduced and Molly Weasley actually shuddered. Dylan acted as though he hadn't seen it and politely greeted everyone.

"If we want dinner before midnight, I'll need help," snapped Molly amidst the silence. Tonks enthusiastically got up, increasing the noise level. Harry's fingers twitched when he saw many people giving Dylan looks of suspicion and fear. He actually saw Moody palm his wand.

"That's it," muttered Harry. "Come on, Dylan, we're going home!"

"Wait, Harry, where are you going?" asked Remus, many of them stopped talking to stare at the tall teen.

"I came here to speak to Dumbledore. I did not come here to socialise nor did I come here to meet the members of the Order of the Phoenix. There is only so much I can handle before I blow up and I do not appreciate the suspicious looks being directed at my brother, so can you blame me for wanting to leave before I attack someone?"

"It's not our fault," Diggle cried indignantly. "He's – he's Rabastan Lestrange's son! How do you know that he can be trusted?"

"For all we know Lestrange might have convinced the boy to spy on us," wheezed Doge.

"Constant Vigilance!" barked Moody, his gaze – magical or otherwise – focussed on the young Lestrange heir. To his credit, Dylan didn't react at all. His grey eyes were fixed on the ceiling, acting as though he wasn't listening to anyone.

The temperature suddenly dropped and the windows developed cracks. Harry's magic was leaking out of his body as he crumpled his hand in a fist. Oh, how he badly wanted to curse those ignorant fools!

"Harry, calm down," said Sirius quietly. "You can't change their minds, I've already tried. Just don't bother with them."

"How do I know that he can be trusted?" Harry hissed, his voice very quiet, eyes turning a shade of blackish green. "I know because he is my brother and I love him with all my heart. I trust him with my life, something which I can't say for the rest of you fools. The fact that you judge someone by their name, a boy who has never once met his father proves beyond a doubt just how bigoted you people are. You believe the worst of him because he is a Lestrange; you believed that my dad was a traitor because he was a Black and you threw him in Azkaban without so much as a trail, shamelessly breaking International law in the process; you hailed a baby as a saviour but you couldn't be bothered to check on that said baby for years, the result of which was me being nearly killed by those filthy Muggles I call my relatives; you believe people can't be trusted just because an enchanted hat puts eleven-year-old children in a particular House. In the end, you are all just as bigoted as the dark! You sicken me!"

There were cries of outrage at that statement but Harry ignored them. Sirius closed his eyes in exasperation but he knew that Harry was right; he himself had been like that before being thrown in Azkaban for a decade, after all. Dumbledore had knowingly thrown him in Azkaban and endangered Harry by placing the boy with the Dursleys.

Barty Crouch too had authorised Unforgivables against suspects during the last war and had sentenced numerous people without a shred of evidence to support his claim, and the same man had broken the law when it suited him, smuggling his Death Eater son out of prison and hiding him in his own home for more than a decade. It was times like this when he couldn't help but think about what Harry had once said – _who said there was a difference between the light and dark?_

Grabbing Dylan's arm, Harry walked out of the kitchen with people following him. Just as he neared the door, he saw something. A shrivelled old house elf, whose skin looked several times too big for it, bald with white hair growing out of its bat-like ears, was standing in the corner.

"Blood-traitors and half-blood brats are scurrying around the house," muttered the elf. "Oh, what would poor mistress say? Kreacher must do something, yes, Kreacher can't let them stay, shame on the House of Black ..."

For the first time in nearly two years, Harry was assaulted by a memory as it rammed into his's conscious mind, making him double over in pain.

"Harry!" shouted Dylan with worry as he tried to support his brother from falling down.

 _He was standing in the middle of a small island, smirking in triumph. This would be his greatest Horcrux yet – the locket of Salazar Slytherin himself. The cave was of special significance because this was where he had used a weaker, more primitive version of the Cruciatus Curse for the first time. Of course, he had never known about it back then, when he had used it on Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson. He just knew it had hurt them because he wanted it to hurt. The two of them should never have tormented him as they had._

 _He scooped up more of the potion to test it as he fed it to the house-elf he had borrowed from Regulus Black._

 _"No, no more!" screamed the elf and he laughed at the pathetic creature's plea for help._

 _"Master Regulus! Mistress Walburga! Kreacher can't drink! No more, please, Kreacher doesn't want to drink more!" screamed the elf._

 _Dropping the locket Horcrux in the basin, he let the house-elf shriek in agony and fear as he saw the Inferi grab the elf's frail hands. He walked out of the cave, knowing that the elf would have been taken inside the lake by now. Another Horcrux was secure._

Harry gasped for breath, clutching his head as the pain intensified. He had not had one of Voldemort's memories barge into his conscious mind like this ever since he had worn Rowena's diadem. It had been just like the first time he had experienced it, but this time it was excruciatingly painful; it was like having a Cruciatus Curse being cast on his brain.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Sirius worriedly.

"I-I'm fine," said Harry, panting hard but he collapsed against his father as he threw up on the carpet, eyes rolling in their sockets.

"I think some bed rest would make him feel better, Sirius, don't you agree?" Dumbledore suggested quietly as he watched Harry clutch his head in pain, having just Flooed into the house. His worst fears were confirmed. The connection he had always suspected to have existed between the boy and Voldemort must have strengthened due to the latter using Harry's blood for his resurrection. This was dangerous. He would have to keep a very close eye on Harry in the future.

"Dylan, take him to the second floor," said Sirius quietly. "Regulus' bedroom should be free for you to use. I'll bring Lady Greengrass here to check on him."

"Yes, Uncle Sirius," Dylan whispered as he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, helping him walk. Harry had still not recovered from the torture he had suffered, no matter what he wanted others to believe. The Cruciatus Curse had long term effects on the mind and body and something must have happened which caused Harry too much pain in a blink of an eye.

Entering the room which had Regulus' name, Dylan shut the door. With a flick of his wand, he vanished Harry's clothes and tucked his brother in bed. After ensuring that he was comfortable and fast asleep, Dylan summoned his communication mirror and contacted Daphne. A few minutes of conversation later, he undressed for the night and quietly slipped into the covers beside his brother and closed his eyes.

He couldn't return home without Harry and since his brother was in no condition to Apparate or use a Portkey, they would have to stay here for now.

 _Damn,_ how bad must Harry have been tortured for the effects to not have disappeared even after a month?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: Has anyone ever wondered why Hermione's parents were never attacked by Death Eaters, even though she was Harry's best friend? From what I have observed from reading Book 6, while there were plenty of attacks on the Muggle world, Voldemort truly went after muggle-borns only in Book 7, after he took over the Ministry of Magic. So it stands to reason that he would do the same here. Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	31. Regulus' secret

**_Chapter 31_**

 ** _Regulus' Secret_**

Harry groaned as he opened his eyes. The room was dark, but he could see the barest hint of sunlight peeking from behind the thick curtains. Feeling a warm presence next to him, he turned his head slightly, only to gaze into the face of the sleeping form of his little brother, who was attached to his body like a human octopus, with an arm and leg tightly holding him in place. He smiled faintly. Memories of the previous night flooded Harry's mind and he started analysing what he had discovered.

The house-elf, which Voldemort thought had been dragged under the Inferi-filled lake, was alive. That was how Regulus had known about it – the elf, Kreacher, had escaped and told his master about the locket. Regulus, realising what Voldemort really was for actually making a Horcrux, decided to steal the Horcrux himself and – what? How did Regulus die? Where was the locket?

He tried to get up but his head was pounding. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and began to meditate. He snuggled closer to his brother, letting the rhythmic beating of Dylan's heart to help him concentrate on finding his centre. Within minutes, the cool magic of Occlumency began soothing Harry's mind as the thoughts which were in disarray soon became organised. An hour later, he was back to normal, his magic contained. A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips; the wonders of mind magic! It was probably the best branch of magic there was.

After untangling himself from his brother's arms, he pushed the blankets away and shook the boy awake, playfully ruffling his hair, eliciting a reaction.

"Fuck off, arsehole," Dylan groaned into his pillow, his eyes still shut. "I'm trying to sleep. Go drown yourself in a lava river."

Harry snickered to himself. One of the highlights of his day was trying to wake his brother up every morning, which always proved to be entertaining. Dylan hated being woken up and always cursed his brother every time he tried.

Walking to the bathroom attached to the room, he frowned when he saw the dust and dirt covered all over. Exhaling in irritation and wondering what the resident house-elf at the townhouse was doing, Harry spent the next five minutes cleaning, with invisible spells flying from the tip of his wand as he flicked and waved it in practised movements. Once the bathroom was spotless, he stood under the shower, letting the enchantments activate. Sure enough, the hot water began raining down on him within seconds and Harry placed his hands on the smooth granite wall, head lowered, letting the water reduce the pain in his muscles. Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom and rolled his eyes when he saw that Dylan was still asleep. _And_ , it looked like the covers were not pooled at the foot of the bed like they were when he had woken up, but were once again covering the sleeping teen.

"Honestly, must I do this for the rest of my life?" Harry muttered to himself, rolling his eyes at the sight before him. "Dylan, wake up," he said loudly, yanking the blankets away and gently smacking the nude boy's bare buttocks.

Dylan made a sound of obvious annoyance. "Get lost, dickhead. Go bother Daphne and leave me alone," he whispered sleepily as he turned to rest on his back, legs spread lazily, a pillow covering his face. Within seconds, he was breathing deeply, having gone back to sleep.

Harry couldn't help but snort in amusement. He wasn't out of options yet. Clearing his throat, he announced loudly, "Dylan, I have a triple chocolate cheesecake and I'm about to finish the last piece!"

"You wouldn't!" the Lestrange scion cried loudly as he got up with a start, throwing the pillow across the room. He looked around and found that there was no cheesecake waiting for him. Instead, he found his annoying older brother standing before him, still naked and wet from the shower, arms crossed over his chest, smirking at him.

"Good morning," he said triumphantly.

"You are evil!" Dylan spat angrily as he got off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, muttering curses under his breath.

Chuckling in amusement, Harry cast a drying charm on himself while one of the Black house-elves popped in to place fresh clothes for him and his brother. He picked up the mirror which he had summoned and contacted Sirius. After assuring his godfather that he was fine, convincing Sirius to not leave his work behind to check on him, he made a mirror call to Daphne as well. Once both brothers were dressed, they walked down the stairs, with Harry stealing a quick glance at every room he could find to see if there were any clues as to where the locket was. He knew that Sirius had already searched this house, but seeing Kreacher last night made him think that he was missing something.

"Come on, let's get some breakfast," Dylan suggested. "All that drama last night has made me hungry."

"You mean with the members of the Order? Are you crazy?" asked Harry, his tone slightly incredulous. "After how I accused them last night, I doubt they would want anything to do with us."

"And you suddenly care because?"

Harry's lips twitched in amusement as he put an arm around his Dylan's shoulders. "I've trained you well, little brother."

"If there is no food, we can always go back home. By the way, are you searching for something?"

"Yes, the locket."

Dylan opened his mouth to say something but decided to wait for an explanation later. Tilting his head slightly, he remembered the mirror call he had last night. "You have to call Daphne after breakfast," he said softly. "She was really worried last night. The only thing that stopped her from coming here herself was the Fidelius Charm."

"I already did," said Harry as they entered the kitchen. The conversation in the room stopped as they sat down opposite to Fred and George. There were not too many people at this time as many had already left for work.

"How're the joke products coming along?" whispered Dylan.

Fred and George grinned. "Really good," said Fred. "We have invented something called Extendable Ears; it's really handy if there are standard silencing charms around because this can crack through them to spy on conversations. That's what we did for the initial meetings until Mum caught us. She was spitting mad that day."

"Cool!" exclaimed Dylan, impressed. "What have they been talking about?"

"Not really sure," said George with a shrug. "It was about patrol duty, recruitment, werewolves, Death Eater attacks and future attacks; it was kind of boring then, but the meetings now are heavily warded."

" _Patrol_ duty?" asked Harry sharply. "Any idea what that is about?"

"No, not really. They're quite insistent on keeping it a secret. They don't reveal a thing to us."

"Hello, Harry dear," said Mrs Weasley, smiling at him as though the whole incident last night had not happened at all. "What would you two like for breakfast? Eggs? Kippers? Toast?"

"Whatever is left over is fine for us, Mrs Weasley," said Harry cordially. He was curiously watching her prepare food and so was Dylan. Pots and pans were flying everywhere, eggs broke themselves and vegetables chopped themselves too.

"Never seen anyone cook before?" asked Remus as he entered the kitchen.

"Not really. I've had house-elves prepare my food since I was seven years old," said Harry as the plate of food levitated itself in front of him. "I thought I had to cook for myself when I first arrived like how I did at the Dursleys; needless to say my elves barred me from the kitchens after that incident."

Hermione sniffed at the mention of house-elves but did not say anything. Harry thanked Mrs Weasley as the two of them ate their fill. It was quite delicious.

"Any progress with the werewolves?" asked Harry quietly. "Things have been unusually quiet with them lately. I assume Voldemort has contacted Greyback and he is mobilising an army before launching an attack?"

Remus choked on his food as he spluttered and even Mrs Weasley dropped her pot with a gasp. It crashed on the floor while the teenagers perked up at any news regarding the war.

"How do you know that?" demanded Remus. This was information that the Order had kept classified; how in Merlin's name did Harry know about something which took Remus nearly a month to find out?

Harry quirked an eyebrow as he said, "I observe, Remus, nothing more. I've read the papers and my parents' journals from the last war and I know that Greyback was involved, so it stands to reason that he would ally with Voldemort this time too."

"Harry, look at this," said Dylan, frowning heavily as he read the _Magical Daily_. "There have been three more Dementor attacks in Nottingham over the past two days. It's like they're specifically targeting that area. It's less than twenty kilometres from the castle! Do you think he's sending Dementors to have you kissed?"

"No," replied Harry, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the newspaper. "Voldemort will not have me kissed by a Dementor. This is either random or someone specifically wants me dead, but it is not Voldemort."

"How do you know that?" asked Remus.

"It's not in Voldemort's nature to attack through proxies for someone who hurt his pride," he said quietly. "Even if we meet again, he'll give me a chance to fight and he would want to do it himself. If he sends Death Eaters, he would do it to capture me, but let me tell you now that not one of them will fire a Killing Curse at me. No, this is the work of someone else."

Remus frowned at Harry, not sure what to say; how could Harry possibly understand Voldemort's mindset?

"Wait, the archives in the Ministry of Magic contain the location of Potter Castle, don't they?" asked Dylan slowly. "What if it is someone who knows that sent the Dementors to kill you?"

"That makes no sense, Dylan. Why would someone who is not Voldemort or his Death Eaters suddenly want to kill me? I'm already high on the list as far as the resident Dark Lord is concerned; no one else would have to lift a finger!"

"I'm not sure, but maybe this is an attempt to lure you away from the protection of the castle," said Dylan quietly. "They know that seizing Potter Castle would be suicide, so they're trying to draw you out by attacking Muggles nearby, hoping that you would save them."

Harry looked at the paper again –

 _THREE MORE MUGGLES KISSED BY_ _DEMENTORS IN NOTTINGHAM!_

 _'No,'_ thought Harry. ' _Voldemort knows that I hate Muggles as much as he does. He knows that attacking Muggles wouldn't make me come to him. This is not Voldemort's game. Who is responsible for this?'_

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry entered the drawing room of the house, looking for the locket as well as that house-elf. Kreacher had not answered his call all day and he was quickly getting annoyed. The Weasleys and Hermione were fighting the doxies using some sort of – _spray_.

 _'How Muggle_ _,'_ thought Harry, frowning at them.

"Why don't you just stun the doxies and vanish them?" asked Dylan curiously.

"That's what I said," muttered Fred.

"Now, now, you are all still not responsible enough to use magic outside school," said Mrs Weasley briskly. "More spraying, less talking!"

"We're seventeen!" said George indignantly, but before his mother could reply, there was a sound from below.

 _CRASH!_

"Mundungus!" screamed Mrs Weasley angrily as he walked downstairs. "I told you repeatedly not to bring your stolen cauldrons in here!"

"Besides, we're not allowed to use magic outside school," said Hermione after a pause. "The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery prohibits an underage witch or wizard from performing magic."

"What?" Dylan exclaimed in shock, turning to face his brother. "But Harry, I've _always_ used magic during the summer!"

"You were in a magical house, Dylan," Harry replied as he examined the tapestry of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. "The Trace cannot be detected in magical houses, especially those which are as heavily warded as Potter Castle or Black Manor; there is too much magic in the air. That law was implemented to ensure that there were no breaches of the International Statute of Secrecy. It is meant to keep children in Muggle areas from using magic."

" _What_?" shrieked Hermione indignantly. "You all can perform magic during the summer?"

"I never knew that!" said Ron in surprise.

Fred and George were looking anywhere else; they knew of the loophole and had exploited it numerous times. They had used magic to create their joke products during the summers, after all.

"This is another way for the Ministry to keep the Muggle-borns from being welcome in the magical world, isn't it?" said Hermione angrily. "This is another attempt to increase the bias against Muggle-borns! How is it that purebloods can use magic while we can't? I should be able to practice magic and show it to my parents -"

"That is precisely the reason it was enacted," said Harry, turning around to look at her. "I'm sorry to contradict you, Granger, but the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery was recommended by the International Confederation of Wizards in 1823 and then adopted by every magical government in the world. It is not some shady plot by the British Ministry of Magic to keep the Muggle-borns weak. The law exists solely to protect the International Statute of Secrecy. It is done because the I.C.W. felt that children and teenagers under the age of seventeen would not be able to comprehend the magnitude of maintaining secrecy. If someone in your neighbourhood were to find you doing magic, can you imagine the repercussions? Magical governments hand out strict punishments to such offenders and to reduce the punishment against children, this law was enacted. If you were to perform magic in front of Muggles like you say _after_ you turn seventeen, the consequences would be severe. Why do you think Voldemort and his Death Eaters are such a threat?"

"This law is also applicable to purebloods if they live in a Muggle populated neighbourhood. If you go outside this house, the law applies to you, but _inside_ , where no Muggle can see you, it is not, because this is a purely magical household. This has nothing to do with blood as you say; it is done only for the protection of witches and wizards."

Hermione was left spluttering in disbelief while Fred and George began stunning and vanishing the doxies in the room before their mother could come back. Ron was clueless about the whole thing so he was simply looking around. Ginny looked curious as she paid attention to the conversation.

"Harry, your grandparents' names are here," said Dylan, pointing to the family tree. Sure enough, there was a name _Dorea_ which connected to _Charlus Potter_. A line below them showed _James_ , but there was a burn mark on the tapestry.

"Why has your father's name been blasted away?" asked Dylan curiously.

"Walburga thought it was a shame that the pureblood scion of one of the oldest families in the country had married a Muggle-born and that such a blood-traitor should not be on the family tree of the House of Black," commented Harry, tracing his fingers over the name. "She blasted her own son from the tree when he ran away, even if it was to the house of her own cousin, so it is hardly surprising that she blasted my father's name too. Besides, this is just a copy; the original family tree can be seen at Black Castle."

"Bellatrix Black," muttered Dylan, as it connected to Rodolphus Lestrange.

"You won't find your father's name here," said Harry quietly. "This tree only shows members of the Black family and their spouses and children; that's why I'm not here as well. Rabastan did not marry into the Black family."

Suddenly, Harry stopped talking as he turned towards the door which had opened marginally.

"– what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do ..."

"Hello, Kreacher," said Harry very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.

"Master Harry," bowed the elf, his face nearly touching the ground. "– nasty half-blood he is too, managed to convince Kreacher's mistress of his blood-status by feeding her lies, but Kreacher knows; Kreacher knows the truth that filthy Master's godson is nothing but scum; a disgrace to the House of Black that he was once the heir ..."

"Where have you been, Kreacher? I have been calling for you all day. We need to talk."

"Kreacher was cleaning," said the elf as he removed an old rag.

"A likely story," Harry said sarcastically, his eye twitching in annoyance. "The House of Black is getting blacker every day; it's filthy! Come with me."

"Master Harry likes to joke," Kreacher muttered under his breath. "– filthy half-blood thinks he can order Kreacher about, what would mistress say?"

Hermione was glaring heatedly at the door from where Harry, Dylan and Kreacher had disappeared. She didn't care what nonsense he had spouted. As far as she was concerned, there was no one who supported the pureblood agenda than one Harry Potter. What was worse was that he always managed to make it sound like it had nothing to do with blood-purity at all!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"What can Kreacher do for Master?" croaked the elf.

"You can start by telling me everything you know about the locket of Salazar Slytherin; the locket which Regulus stole from Voldemort; the locket which was in the cave where Voldemort made you drink that potion," said Harry, observing the elf's reaction.

Kreacher's eyes widened as he began thrashing about to punish himself. "No! Kreacher failed in his orders! Kreacher failed to obey Master Regulus!"

"Kreacher, stop!" Harry shouted, shocked by the elf's reaction; with a flick of his wand, he bound the elf so that he wouldn't hurt himself. "Now, tell me exactly what happened to Regulus. First, how did you escape the Inferi?"

Not having a choice, Kreacher revealed everything; how he had escaped from the cave, how Regulus had been worried, to taking Regulus to the cave, to Regulus drinking the potion himself and sacrificing his life and finally, ordering Kreacher to destroy the locket by any means necessary.

Harry was astounded by Regulus' bravery and self-sacrifice, not to mention the elf's loyalty to his master. "It looks like the House of Black produced more than one brave son," he whispered, humbled by Regulus' actions. "May Mother Magic bless your soul to find purpose again, Uncle Regulus."

"Kreacher, do you have the locket with you?" When the elf nodded hesitantly, he said, "Good, bring it here. I'll destroy it right in front of you so that you can confirm it yourself."

"Master can destroy the locket?" asked Kreacher looking hopeful. He disappeared with a _crack_ and came back with a large golden locket with emeralds encrusted on the front in a serpentine shape. Harry levitated the locket to the ground and cast several protection charms around himself and the Horcrux.

"Dylan, step back," Harry ordered. Pointing his wand at the locket, he hissed, " _Open!"_

The locket opened in metallic click and dark, handsome eyes looked up at Harry. " _I have seen your heart, and it is mine."_

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

The jet of green light flew from the tip of Harry's wand and impacted the locket, making it scream and wail. After it was done, he scanned it.

"It's destroyed," Harry declared, a dark smirk forming on his lips. "That was the last of it and it has been destroyed."

"Uncle Sirius would be happy," Dylan smiled brightly. "He's been searching for it for a long time, hasn't he? It's finally done."

"Yes," the older boy agreed. He turned to the sobbing elf and the emerald green orbs softened. He was quite pissed off that the locket had been right here the whole time without them knowing about it. Had they destroyed it before, Voldemort would never have risen again, but he couldn't bring himself to be mad at the elf. Kreacher had at least kept the locket safe; Merlin knows what could have happened had the locket been stolen. The consequences would have been too dire to contemplate.

"You did well, Kreacher. If Uncle Regulus were alive, I'm sure he would be very proud of you. His final wish has been fulfilled."

The aged elf couldn't help himself as he burst into tears again. Harry and Dylan quietly left the room, giving the house-elf his privacy.

The last Horcrux was destroyed; Voldemort was mortal.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Harry, my boy," said Dumbledore as he sat down at the dining table, along with the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Headmaster," Harry greeted him impassively. He frowned slightly when he saw the shrivelled, blackened hand of Dumbledore. "Are you alright, sir? Maybe you should get that hand looked at."

"Alas, there is nothing I can do," the headmaster said heavily. "Not to worry though, I'm perfectly fine. Now, I was told you wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes. I have contacted my former professors at Hogwarts and they have all agreed to take me as an apprentice, but all of them with the exception of Master Slughorn said that I should talk to you first. As you recall when I first brought up the subject of the accelerated program to you, I had expressed my desire to finish my Master's degree in several subjects. I know that you do not want me out of Hogwarts yet, so this is a win-win situation for both of us."

A witch or wizard had several options open to them after graduating from school. Most of them chose to start their career early, choosing to join their family businesses, seek employment in establishments or governments, or in other cases, pursue higher education. The next step after school was the Master's degree; this could be done through apprenticeship under a qualified Master, or by joining a university and gain the degree through classroom teaching, or through research, which was the most prestigious of the lot but also the most difficult.

The _International Committee for Aspiring Masters_ , which was affiliated to the I.C.W., took part in awarding the degree after they had submitted their research papers or after they had completed their apprenticeship.

The next level after the Master's degree was that of the _Sorcerer_ level. This consisted of an in-depth study of the subject under consideration and it always included research projects. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn were all Sorcerers in their respective fields and were well-known internationally for their research papers.

The highest level of credit was that of the _Grand Sorcerer_. This required several years, or even decades of study and research and was awarded to anyone who made a breakthrough in any of the various fields of magic. Albus Dumbledore had been awarded this title for his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, but he also held the title of Sorcerer for Transfiguration and Alchemy as well. Harry, being the ambitious boy that he was, was quite ready to begin his apprenticeship three years in advance as he had completed his N.E.W.T.s.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "And which subjects do you want to pursue?" he asked.

"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Potions and Transfiguration," said Harry briskly. "I have already written to Professors Vector, Babbling, Flitwick, Slughorn and McGonagall and they have all agreed to take me as their apprentice."

"What about Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"No, I wish to do a research project and earn the degree on my own in that field. There is nothing I will learn more than I already have from the teachers at school. So, what do you say?"

"Alright, Harry," Dumbledore smiled. As a teacher, he couldn't in good conscience deny such an opportunity to a boy as talented as Harry. He also hoped that it would help the students of Hogwarts, considering the new Defence teacher they were to have this year. "If that is what you want, I will allow you to stay at Hogwarts as an apprentice to all these professors. You will be assigned your own quarters like any other apprentice and you may have to teach the lower years if your mentor asks you to."

Harry blinked in surprise as a hint of an amused smile formed on his lips. "I'm disappointed in you, Professor. I expected more of a fight. I was so looking forward to blackmailing you again, but you took that pleasure away from me."

Dumbledore chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement as the people around them gasped.

"You _blackmailed_ Professor Dumbledore?" asked Remus, his voice clearly displaying the anger he felt within.

"I did, but I managed to get into the accelerated program without his help so it wasn't strictly needed," Harry shrugged casually. "If Mum and Dad had not taken me to Madam Marchbanks, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore and I would have come to blows."

"Oh, I'm sure you're exaggerating, my boy," Dumbledore waved it off, but he was a touch peeved that he still did not know how the boy knew of Severus' involvement in the prophecy. It continued to irk him.

"There is another matter I wish to discuss with you," said Dumbledore. "I was wondering if you would like to join the Order of the Phoenix as a member."

There was deathly silence in the room when Molly Weasley shrieked. " _What?_ Albus, you can't be serious! He's just a boy! He shouldn't be made to fight in the war, he's just fifteen years old! This is madness!"

"She's right, Albus," Remus frowned. "Harry is still very young and we can't expect him to fight in the war. I agree that he's talented, but he just won't be able to understand the risks and dangers associated with it. James, Lily, Sirius and I were twenty-three when we joined the Order the last time and James and Sirius were fully qualified Aurors back then, with Lily working in the Department of Mysteries. We can't expect a fifteen-year-old boy to fight for us."

"There is also the issue of security," said Moody gruffly. It was clear that he did not trust Dylan Lestrange one bit.

Harry looked ahead and met the grey eyes of his adoptive father, seeking permission. He and Sirius had definitely not expected this offer from Dumbledore, but Amelia had judged the aged headmaster's actions correctly. Both of them had given him the choice to decide for himself and he had finally arrived at the answer. Sirius discreetly nodded to his son, telling him to answer the question.

"Thank you for your offer, Professor Dumbledore, but the answer is no," said Harry quietly, surprising many. Everyone thought that Harry would fight tooth and nail to join the Order. "I do not want to join the Order because, for one thing, we are bound to clash on our policies. You and I have a very different outlook on how the war should proceed and our methods would clash, so no, I cannot join your side."

" _Your_ side?" said Emmeline Vance incredulously. "Don't you mean _our_ side?"

"No, I meant _your_ side, meaning Dumbledore's side," clarified Harry. "I do not fight to save the British magical world from the oppressive evil that is Voldemort. Every side has a story and I am not blind to the faults of the 'light', as people call it. I _will_ fight, but it's for me, my parents, the girl I love, and for my brothers Dylan and Rigel, and if that means I need to cripple Voldemort's forces, then so be it. You would not agree with my methods, so while I will work with you, I will not serve under your command."

"Have you truly gone so dark, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, looking old and weary.

Harry's eye twitched in annoyance; he did not bother dignifying that question with a response. He had answered the same question before. He was never _light_ to begin with, so how could he go _dark_? As far as he was concerned, he followed the will of Magic, nothing more. Classification of light and dark was a human invention and that was not how magic in its natural state existed.

"Would you actually kill the Death Eaters if you are fighting them?" asked Dedalus Diggle, his voice trembling slightly.

"If I hadn't been nearly tortured to death by Bellatrix and Rodolphus, then yes, I would have killed every single one of them there including Voldemort himself if I could," said Harry without batting an eye. "You would see it as slaughter, I would see it as ending a war before it started. I did not ask them to kidnap me, nor did I start the war. It was their fault for being marked by Voldemort in the first place and I will not be blamed for defending myself and my family."

"You are just a child!" said Molly Weasley furiously. "You shouldn't be speaking like this! I don't know what you have learnt during your childhood, but this is no way to speak to the headmaster! He is a wise man and you should listen to him!"

"What I learnt during my childhood?" Harry repeated as his face darkened. "I learnt that there would be nobody around to help me in case I was in danger. I learnt that people only look out for their own interests. I learnt that everyone has a secret agenda if they are helping me. I learnt that if I do not stand on my own two feet, others would crush me. Granted, some of my views changed after Mum and Dad took me in, loving me as their own son; Daphne and Dylan changing my views some more, but I will never forget what I learnt back then. I have been living alone in a fortified castle tutored by ghosts and portraits since I was seven years old, Mrs Weasley. I never had anyone to tell me that I should enjoy my childhood. I spent _every day_ since my seventh's birthday constantly studying and practising magic; there is a reason I was a Ravenclaw and there is a reason I qualified with an Outstanding in all my seven N.E.W.T.s with extra credit at the age of fourteen."

"As for me not being able to understand the risks and dangers, I have faced a seventy-foot long basilisk at the age of twelve, Remus. I willingly went into the Chamber of Secrets alone, knowing that I might not make it out of there alive. I was tortured under the Cruciatus Curse by Voldemort, Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Dear Aunt Bella used my body as a knife sharpener. Rodolphus whipped me _fifty times_ and I still managed to duel Voldemort and escape under his nose. I understand that I'm only fifteen years old; you're right, I've never experienced war for me to know what it's like. You all have survived the last war but point out to me one person in this room who has gone through as much as I have before the age of fifteen. I may not openly tell people of my achievements or pain, but _don't_ mistake me for a weakling. I have never had a childhood to be considered a child at all. I have seen and experienced quite a few horrible things in my life, some of which you can't even digest."

 _'I have personally seen the atrocities committed by Voldemort. None of you can even comprehend what I have seen in his memories. None of you can begin to imagine the torture I underwent at the graveyard. None of you …'_

There was utter silence in the room. Moody's eye was swirling in its socket as he considered training the boy as an Auror. Dumbledore looked thoughtful, not really worried about the other things Harry had said. He was now quite curious about the memory of the graveyard. There was something in that memory which Harry did not want him to see; he was now sure of it. What was it? Maybe he should ask Severus to ask Lucius Malfoy or someone else to provide the memory.

"May I leave, Father?" asked Harry formally. Remus flinched slightly at the term but the teenager ignored it.

"Of course, Harry," said Sirius quietly, his face stony, but eyes glistening with tears. His precious little boy had suffered so much in his life and there was nothing he could do to help him get over the pain.

Back upstairs, the teens were listening to what was going on using the Extendable Ear. Hermione had been mentally ranting about how it was unfair that Potter was able to get an apprenticeship, but she was slack-jawed like everyone else when they heard him speak. The silence was broken when Dylan took out his mirror.

"Daphne Greengrass!"

The mirror shimmered and Daphne's beautiful face appeared. "Hey Dylan," she greeted him with a happy smile. "I wasn't expecting your call for another hour. What's up?"

"Daph, can you sneak out and come to the castle tonight?" asked Dylan urgently, as he spotted Harry climbing up the stairs. "Harry needs you."

"I was already planning on coming, but I'll be there soon," said Daphne as she cut off communication.

"Ready to go?" asked Harry, his eyes a shade of blackish-green. Dylan knew immediately that Harry's emotions were not yet fully under control.

"Yes," he replied.

Bidding everyone a good night, they stepped out of the front door of the house and Portkeyed to the entrance hall of Potter Castle, just as the Floo flared and Daphne walked out of the fireplace, following Harry to the master bedroom.

Dylan sighed as he made his way to his room on the second floor, collapsing on the large four-poster bed. His mirror vibrated and he saw the concerned face of Astoria Greengrass looking back at him.

He smiled fondly. "How is that you know exactly when I need you, Tori?"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

" _Crucio!"_

Lucius Malfoy screamed in pain once more, twitching on the floor as he tried to get up. His entire body was burning and he couldn't help but let out a whimper.

"Pathetic," spat Voldemort. "Harry Potter underwent torture which was infinitely worse than yours and yet he stood up with defiance and duelled me to the death. Again, why did you disobey me and use that diary for your own means? Didn't I tell you, Lucius, that the diary was _extremely_ valuable? Why did you not protect it with your life like I had asked you to? I have gone through the text of Arthur Weasley's Muggle Protection Act; it was useless and poorly written! You destroyed my diary because Weasley raided your house? Was your ego the only thing you could think of?"

"M-My Lord, i-it was P-Potter who d-destroyed –"

"Silence!" hissed Voldemort, making Lucius flinch. "The boy only destroyed the diary because it was a threat to his life. Had you kept it safe as I had expected from you, it would never have reached Harry's hands for him to destroy it in the first place!"

"You have failed me again, Lucius," said Voldemort coldly. "Your failures have increased steadily year after year and they have been growing worse. First you abandon me after my defeat in 1991; then you surrender to the whims of Sirius Black, unable to stop him from becoming the Minister of Magic, thus making it much harder for us to take control of the Ministry; then you let _Amelia Bones_ of all people marry Sirius Black and actually have a child with him and thus lose control of the Black estate forever; then you let Dylan Lestrange slip under your fingers and be influenced by Harry Potter and Sirius Black while he should have been raised under _our_ ideology instead, and now you let your ego destroy my diary! It's time you realise, Lucius, that I do not appreciate so many blunders! Severus, bring Draco Malfoy before me. I have a _task_ for him."

"M-My Lord, please," begged Lucius desperately. "Not my son! I'll do anything!"

"Maybe this will give you more incentive to not let me down, Lucius," hissed Voldemort. "I have a task for Draco. He is to find a way to kill Albus Dumbledore as soon as possible. If he fails, I shall kill you, your wife and your son!"

Severus Snape melted into the shadows.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"What are you thinking about?" asked Daphne softly as she ran her fingers up and down Harry's abs as they recovered from their post-coital bliss.

"I was thinking about Dumbledore's blackened hand." He had recognised it instantly. How could he not? He had been the one to cast the curse in the first place.

"And?"

"He's going after Voldemort's Horcruxes."

"How do you know that?" asked Daphne curiously.

"One of the Horcruxes was a ring. It had a nasty, deadly curse on it. My dad and I went to place a duplicate while we destroyed the original, remember? To ensure everything was perfect, I actually placed the same curse on the fake ring in case Voldemort comes to investigate. It turns out that Dumbledore did go there and fell for the trap. He's dying."

" _What_?"

"Yes, he's dying," said Harry, a smirk tugging on his lips. "There is no counter-curse and I'm pretty sure his right arm is already dead. It's only a matter of time before the curse reaches his heart. I'm not sure how long he has because I thought the curse would kill instantly, but then again, this is Albus Dumbledore. He is an extremely powerful wizard and wouldn't go down without a fight, though I'm curious as to how a wizard of his calibre managed to be fooled by it. There is no way can he survive it, though. His days are numbered."

"Wouldn't Voldemort get more confident if Dumbledore dies?" asked Daphne worriedly.

"I'm hoping that I can kill Voldemort before that happens," muttered Harry quietly. "All his Horcruxes have been destroyed; he's mortal, but doesn't know it yet."

Daphne looked at the troubled expression on her fiancé's face. Smiling slightly, she cupped his face, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"I know that you feel that you are not strong enough to defeat him," she whispered. "But please don't lose hope, Harry. Not when we're this close. Yes, you need to train harder and I promise you that I will be there every step of the way. If you need me to get up at four in the morning to train in the Room of Requirement, I'll do it. You're not alone, Harry. Whatever happens, you'll always have me by your side."

Harry's eyes grew misty as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. His hand found hers as they intertwined their fingers together. They simply stared into each other's eyes as Harry smiled slightly. "What would I ever do without you, Daphne?"

"You'll never have to find out," she replied, kissing him lovingly. Trailing kisses along the side of her face, Harry pulled her closer to his chest, breathing in the sweet scent of his fiancée as he went to sleep.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: Yes, Nagini is a Horcrux but Harry doesn't know it yet. We have never been given an explanation of what Grand Sorcerer means. Since it was never mentioned again after Book 1, I didn't think it was a political title like Chief Warlock or Supreme Mugwump, but more of an educational title. What do you think? Thanks for the review everyone!_**


	32. Apprentice Potter

**_Chapter 32_**

 ** _Apprentice Potter_**

On the first of September, Harry donned his robes and looked at himself in the mirror. He had chosen to wear clothes that didn't look too out of place with the students while also giving the impression that he wasn't a student himself. They were black, like the uniforms, but the cut was very professional and didn't look like the Hogwarts uniform. There was also no Ravenclaw crest on his robes, but instead, there was a badge showing that he was an apprentice. Packing his trunk, he walked down the marble staircase and saw Dylan already waiting. They stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a burst of green flames.

Stepping out of the fireplace in Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, they observed that most adults present were nervous about sending their children to school. Harry didn't even want to think about the attendance of the other smaller schools in Britain and Ireland. Claiming an empty compartment for themselves, they waited for their friends to arrive. Five minutes later, Astoria entered the compartment with two miniature trunks in tow. Dylan's eyes immediately lit up as he stood up to give her a tight hug.

"Hey Tori!" he said happily as he hugged her. Astoria smiled as she hugged him back, and before he could pull back fully, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Nice to see you again too, Dylan," she smiled, enjoying the stunned look on his face.

Harry gave a long whistle. "I just won ten Galleons," he declared.

"Why?" asked Astoria as she pulled Dylan with her to take a seat, the latter still in a state of shock.

"I knew that you would be the one to kiss him first, but Daphne was sure that Dylan would initiate it. Congratulations, you two! Does that mean you both are dating?"

"Yes," said Astoria as she linked arms with Dylan who had just snapped out of his trance. "I've been working on this the entire summer. He's now my boyfriend."

"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Dylan incredulously, though he did lean down to give her a kiss on the cheek, his own cheeks flushed pink in happiness.

"Nope," said Astoria, grinning.

"Somehow, I can live with that," said Dylan as he took her hand in his. Harry shook his head in amusement as he took out a book to read, leaving the new couple to talk amongst themselves. They were joined soon by several others, all of them wanting to know if Harry was alright and how he did in his N.E.W.T.s.

Two hours later, Daphne and Neville entered the compartment, looking exhausted. Harry gave them each a chilled glass of butterbeer which they took gratefully.

"So, how was the prefects' meeting?" asked Theo.

"It would have been shorter if not for Granger going on and on about what needs to be changed," Neville groaned.

"Some of her ideas were really good, but the way she wouldn't stop hammering us about it didn't work in her favour," Daphne added, snuggling into Harry's hold as the boy put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her to his chest.

"Who else has been made a prefect?"

"Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff," said Neville. "Sue has prefect patrols now, so she'll be here later. Then we have Terry Boot and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw and Daphne and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin."

"Why Draco?" asked Dylan, frowning.

"He's one of the top students in our year among the boys," Blaise answered. "That's not to say that Theo and I are anything less, but Snape has always played favourites with Draco, so we never expected the badge."

"Cedric Diggory is the Head Boy," said Daphne. "But that's not really a surprise, is it?"

Harry hummed quietly as he went back to his book. Several hours later, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station. Taking the carriages to the school, Harry calmly walked over to the Ravenclaw table and sat down next to his brother, ignoring the stares being directed his way.

"I think people are wondering why you're back," muttered Dylan. "Everyone knows you took your N.E.W.T.s and you aren't wearing the uniform."

"Who cares?" Harry retorted as he watched the sorting of the students. His emerald eyes scanned the staff table and when he saw Professor Slughorn present but not Remus Lupin, he figured it out immediately.

"Brace yourself, little brother," murmured Harry. "It's a good thing you are as talented in Defence as you are."

"Why do you say that?" Dylan frowned.

"I think Snape might be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. That's why."

Dylan groaned. The Sorting Hat's song was different this time and emphasised on unity amongst the four Houses, especially considering that the true history of the Founders was known to everyone thanks to Godric's journal. The change was noticeable, if however subtle. Slytherins weren't shunned as before; the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was still present, but it wasn't anywhere as bad as it had been. Slowly, the changes were taking place just as Harry wanted. If only the Voldemort problem would soon solve itself ... Harry amused himself with the image of Voldemort crying with remorse as he committed suicide; now that would be funny.

Once the feast was over, Dumbledore got up, beaming at all the students. "The very best of evenings to you!" he said, extending his hands forward in welcome. Many people gasped as they saw the black and shrivelled hand. Harry's lips twitched slightly as he tried not to smirk. He really expected better from Dumbledore; why did he touch the ring or put it on? It made no sense! He had informed Dylan, Sirius and Amelia about Dumbledore's impending death. Sirius did not show it, but Harry could see the smug satisfaction in his father's eyes.

"We're pleased to welcome back Professor Slughorn, a former colleague of mine to take up the job as Potions Master," said Dumbledore. "Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking up the post as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"I don't get it," whispered Dylan. "Shouldn't Dumbledore appoint a teacher who actually teaches the subject? Putting instructions on the board and belittling us if we made a mistake was bad enough in Potions, but Defence? Especially considering the current climate shouldn't we learn to defend ourselves better? What is Dumbledore thinking?"

"It's all for the greater good," said Harry, his upper lip curling.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

Everyone in the Hall quietened at once and Harry observed the faces of the students. Nearly all of them were terrified, even some of the children of the Death Eaters. Of course, Draco was smug about something but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Harry tuned out Dumbledore's speech and once they were all dismissed, he walked towards the private room he had been given for the duration of his stay at Hogwarts. It was right at the base of Ravenclaw Tower with a handsome painting of a golden eagle in flight. A small smile formed on his face as the eagle asked him in a musical female voice.

"Password, my Lord?"

"Patronus," said Harry, thinking about Dylan's Patronus resembling his Animagus form. The eagle flapped its wings and bowed as the painting moved to reveal a portrait hole, inside of which was a large, comfortable common room with two bedrooms. Harry was sure that none of the staff was responsible for this – it must be the house-elves. He would be sure to personally thank them tomorrow.

"Dylan Lestrange," he muttered. The mirror shimmered as his brother's face appeared.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Get your arse down here," Harry smirked. "And bring your trunk too. I've got a new room for you."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"You want me to do what?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Take the class for the third-year students," said Professor Babbling briskly. "It'll give me some time to work on what we need to achieve for your apprenticeship. Oh, this is best in having you, Harry. Talented students can always substitute for me. I think I'm going to enjoy this!"

"But I've never taught anyone before," said Harry, his tone had a hint of desperation to it.

"Okay, tell you what," said Professor Babbling seriously. "I'll monitor your class today and if I feel you are not up to the mark, I'll take over. But I do want you to give it your best because trust me, there is no better way to learn than by teaching it to others. You'll have a firm grounding in the subject."

Harry mentally let out a frustrated sigh. He should have expected this; he thought Dumbledore had been kidding when he said that he might have to take classes, but apparently not. He stood at the teacher's desk, waiting for the students to arrive. This batch was comprised of the third year Ravenclaws and Slytherins, so he would be taking his first class with Dylan and Astoria as his students.

The students shuffled in, many of them giving Harry curious glances while Professor Babbling was sitting in the corner, reading a book while writing down things on a sheet of parchment. Dylan and Astoria looked at him in surprise as they took a place together in the middle of the class.

"Welcome to your first class on the study of Ancient Runes," said Harry, his voice loud and confident. "I am Harry Potter, Professor Babbling's apprentice and I'll be taking this class today. You may address me as Mr Potter or Apprentice Potter and I ask you all to pay attention because Runes is not a subject you can take lightly. It can be very dangerous, but at the same time _infinitely_ rewarding. If I had it my way, I would make this subject compulsory like how it was until forty years ago, but our esteemed Headmaster feels otherwise."

Professor Babbling snorted and coughed, trying to hide her grin; she was unsuccessful.

"Now, can anyone tell me the purpose of Runes?" said Harry. "Why is this subject considered so important? Why do we use it when we have Charms, Transfiguration and Defence? What are its applications?"

A few people raised their hands, but Harry wasn't impressed with their answers. Finally, Dylan raised a tentative hand.

"Yes, Mr Lestrange," Harry nodded, his face impassive as always.

"Runes is an important subject because it is the building block for most spells and enchantments. Charms and Transfiguration are varied, but they are temporary, however, a perfectly crafted runic array is permanent. They are used in permanently enchanting objects, in rituals, but the most well-known application of runes is in warding."

"Good, five points to Ravenclaw. Wards are what protect us from danger; Hogwarts itself has some of the best wards in the country and so you can imagine how important runes are if warding is based on the subject. Protective charms and enchantments are made permanent with the help of runes. They can also be used as a means of defence. Let me give you an example. Can I have a volunteer please?"

The students were quite unnerved by Harry's teaching style. After no one raised their hand, Dylan again put his hand up.

"Alright, come up here Mr Lestrange," said Harry. "I hope you all start interacting with me because I don't like teaching to a bunch of Inferi. I expect you to be active, is that clear? Now, Mr Lestrange, cast the most powerful stunner that you can produce at me."

Dylan didn't hesitate. Quickly pointing his wand at Harry, he said, " _Stupefy!"_

The bright jet of red light flew from the tip of his wand, but just as it was about to impact Harry, the class saw him press something on a sheet of parchment which was on the table next to him. A shield materialised, deflecting the spell. People were stunned by the display.

"No, I did not use wandless magic," explained Harry. "What I showed you is an ancient variety of the shield charm, condensed in a rune cluster. I had already drawn it on his sheet of parchment which as you can see, is now charred. This is just the very basic of what runes can do. So, shall we begin?"

Once the class was over, the third years were chatting excitedly amongst themselves as they left. Harry sat down on the desk and looked over at Professor Babbling. The smirk on his mentor's face did not help matters any.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"He was amazing!" said Astoria excitedly.

"Yeah, the class was hooked," agreed Dylan.

They were sitting at the Slytherin table for dinner, telling their friends how the third year Ancient Runes class was.

"I never really pictured Harry as a teacher," said Susan. The others nodded.

"It's not like I was given a choice," muttered Harry as he sat down. "How was Defence?"

The mood plummeted. "He's horrible," said Theo bitterly. "He doesn't teach a thing and I'm from the House he actually favours!"

"We won't learn anything from Snape," said Neville. "He terrified the crap out of me in class today. He was worse than in Potions. He won't tell us what to do, won't show us how to do the wand movements, just gives us the incantation, pairs us with each other and he expects perfect results!"

"Something has to be done about this," said Daphne quietly.

"Unfortunately it is not on the list of priorities," Harry replied grimly. "There was an attack on Diagon Alley last night. Two witches and wizards were killed and there was a lot of property damage. There have been more Dementor attacks and the full moon is next week."

Everyone went quiet at that.

"How was it for you guys?" asked Daphne.

"Fine," said Dylan quickly. "Can you pass me some the mashed potatoes?"

"What's wrong?" asked Daphne, her eyes narrowed.

"Nothing," Dylan told her. He could feel the eyes boring into him. He didn't even need to know what was going on as he said, "Stop staring at me."

Dylan turned to the other side and saw Astoria glaring at him too. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you. Just stop with the eyes! It's freaking me out!"

Daphne and Astoria smirked at each other. "Works like a charm every time," muttered Astoria. "So, what did Snape do?"

"He kept insulting Harry whenever I was in earshot," he sighed. "When I was able to perform the shield charm perfectly, he accused me of cheating and gave me a detention. His subtle insults towards my illegitimate birth were not missed by anyone either. He has always hated me, but it wasn't this bad before."

"We need to do something," cried Tracy. "We can't just be sitting ducks!"

Daphne's eyes lit up. She looked at Harry who was lost in thought.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The living room was dim, with the fireplace the only source of illumination, their shadows falling on the carpeted floor. A light sheen of sweat covered their naked bodies. Daphne Greengrass was bent at the waist, her hands tightly gripping the arm of Dylan's favourite armchair. Her long dark-blonde hair was pushed to the side of her face, falling to the seat of the chair. Her lush breasts bounced up and down with every movement, the pink nipples erect. A large hand reached forward to fondle them, making a moan slip through her lips. The fingers pinched a nipple before it slid lower, across her flat stomach, before settling at her curvy hips. The second hand was buried between Daphne's legs, teasing her clit. Her arse was open, displaying a pink hole and vagina, the latter which currently had a thick cock buried inside it.

Sweat trickled down Harry Potter's bare back. Strong shoulder muscles flexed as he moved. His butt was clenched, muscular thighs pressed very close to his fiancée's body before moving away, a long phallus sliding in and out of her tight vagina as he fucked her from behind. Damp hair was sticking to his forehead, a few strands falling over his eyes. The platinum locket that hung from around his neck kept hitting his chest as he moved with every thrust. The hard definition of his six-pack abs could be clearly seen as his stomach contracted due to the exertion. The skin surrounding Harry's groin was pink due to his hips and heavy balls smacking Daphne's arse with force every second. Soft grunts and groans of pleasure escaped his mouth, his usually expressionless face writ with pleasure, an expression that was shared by the Slytherin teenager.

Time seemed to pass without their knowledge. The couple switched positions, with both of them now facing each other, their movements fast and desperate. Before they knew it, Harry and Daphne cried out each other's names in ecstasy as they achieved orgasm, bodies closely pressed against each other, as pleasurable sensations assaulted them all over. He collapsed on the soft rug by the fireplace, breathing hard, and was soon joined by his fiancée. The naked, sweaty teens turned towards each other and kissed passionately, basking in the afterglow of making love to each other.

A few minutes later, still enjoying the post-coital bliss, Daphne murmured, "Harry?"

"Mmm?" Harry made a noise of acknowledgement. His mouth was busy, seemingly attached to his fiancée's nipple, sucking slowly, as if he was feasting on the most delicious, succulent fruit in the world.

"I was thinking about our problem with the Defence program."

He simply grunted.

"I think I may have a solution for it."

Harry released her nipple from his mouth with a wet _pop_. "Really? I'm all ears," he said, giving her his undivided attention.

"We know that Snape is a horrible teacher and that he wouldn't teach the students anything," said Daphne. "Perhaps that was the plan all along. How can there be a rebellion from the younger generation if they can never put up a fight?"

Harry was quiet. "I never thought of that," he said softly. "I assumed it was Snape's natural charm, but this makes more sense. The Aurors are better trained now than they were under Fudge and Bagnold's regime. Voldemort has to target somewhere to ensure that there is no uprising and which place is better than Hogwarts?"

"Then why did Dumbledore hire Snape if he knows that he is not going to teach the students?"

"Oh, he knows. But that is acceptable collateral damage as long as it keeps his spy safe within Voldemort's ranks."

Daphne hummed. "As I was saying, we need a better teacher."

"Trust me, Daphne, I've seriously considering murdering Snape before," said Harry darkly. "It's not that I wouldn't be willing to kill; it's just that Dumbledore has a very close eye on his pet Death Eater. It's way too difficult to get rid of him."

"That was not what I meant. I meant _you_ teaching us Defence."

"I already tutor you and Dylan." _Drop it, drop it, drop it ..._

Daphne sighed. "I was talking about you teaching the rest, Harry. If we need to fight, we need more people. The Aurors are already spread thin. If there is an attack on Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley or Hogwarts itself, people need to know how to defend themselves."

"Not everyone will be into it," Harry retorted, as he mentally groaned. "People are busy enough as it is, and so am I!"

"I'm not asking you to do it," said Daphne patiently. "I'm only asking you to think about it, alright? Just think of the benefits this could offer you."

Harry didn't reply, having already returned to his earlier activity of sucking on her nipples. Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Draco Malfoy carefully placed the large cabinet in the corner of the room. It had been three days since he had come back to Hogwarts and he had spent all his time checking if there was a private room to work on his project, deep in the dungeons. The Dark Lord had given him a mission – find a way to kill Albus Dumbledore.

Desperately wanting to help his son, Lucius, in secret, had used his sources to find out information about a Vanishing Cabinet in Borgin and Burkes which had its twin at Hogwarts. Subtly feeding the information to Draco, he had stood back, hoping that the boy would be able to finish his mission soon so that the death sentence the boy didn't know about which was hanging over their heads would soon be withdrawn. Lucius was not an unintelligent man; he knew that Albus Dumbledore was an extremely powerful wizard. He would never dare to say it out loud, but even the Dark Lord wouldn't want to risk a direct confrontation with the old mage unless it was absolutely essential. Therefore, any conflict involving a wand would be futile.

Despite not knowing his father and mother's anxiety, Draco had taken the mission seriously. This was the first mission given to him by the Dark Lord and he didn't want to let his master down. The Dark Lord had promised to mark him if he managed to succeed, thus making him the youngest Death Eater in their generation. It was a proud honour, and Draco would strive for it. But there was only one problem – the Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts was broken. It had to be carefully repaired, with the rune clusters perfectly carved and enchantments perfectly applied. There was also the problem of getting new materials for the task. He knew that it would be incredibly dangerous and foolish to bring such materials into Hogwarts, but he had to figure out a way soon.

But Draco was confident. It was only September; the Dark Lord had given him until the end of October to finish the task so that they could move on to more important targets like Sirius and Amelia Black. Draco wondered why the Dark Lord never mentioned about wanting to kill Harry Potter in their meetings, but he had asked Draco to provide any and all information on Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange. Draco was only too happy to do so.

Soon, he would prove to everyone that he wasn't just a pampered prince. Those words still irked him every time he remembered the conversation with Potter a few months ago. He would show them all.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The month of September passed quickly. Harry went back to practising at a furious rate against the enhanced practice dummies in the Room of Requirement and he increased Daphne and Dylan's training too. He was also knee-deep in work because being an apprentice to five mentors at the same time was very hard work. Most, in fact, did only one, and a few ambitious people like his mother did two at the same time – Charms and Potions. But he was working on five and he was yet to start on his sixth being a research paper on the Dark Arts and its defences. His aim was to show people that they were wrongly classifying magic based on superstition on what was light or dark. Magic was all about intent, and magic in its pure form was grey. Unfortunately, while he had an idea for his thesis, he did not have any time to start it.

After his successful class in Ancient Runes, the other teachers had begun to test him by making him teach the first year students as well. That had quickly moved to second and third-year students by the third week of September. That didn't mean he was taking all their classes; just a few here and there until he finished the concept he was teaching.

The class on Animagus transformation was so good that the third years couldn't stop talking about it for days. McGonagall had been giving him suspicious looks, but Harry didn't fall for the trap. His Animagus form was a secret, even if he had been registered with the I.C.W. Amelia had paid a lot of money to keep it quiet, so he wasn't willing to come clean yet. There was a war going on outside the walls of Hogwarts and his ability could save his life someday.

Aside from teaching, he was also given a lot of books to read, along with papers to write. Becoming a Master in a subject was really hard work but Harry was thriving. Even though Voldemort had advanced knowledge in many fields of magic, he had never actually learnt from a mentor, specialising in a subject like how Harry was doing now. Therefore, his knowledge was limited because Voldemort spent more time on the Dark Arts, dwelling deep into them. It was for that reason that Harry was so focussed on his apprenticeship. It was a chance to fill the gap with the other branches of magic.

Daphne had not broached the top of him teaching Defence again throughout the month but Harry had no doubts that she would do it again. Daphne was nothing if not persistent and had a stubborn streak a mile away. It was not to say that he had not given it much thought; he had, but he wondered if it was worth it. It was only after talking to his dad that he made a sound decision.

"We need more Aurors, Harry," said Sirius grimly. "We lost a lot of good Aurors during the war with Grindelwald. Even though he didn't exactly attack Britain, our Aurors did go to Europe to help, the decision which was taken after receiving orders from the International Confederation of Wizards. It was not a civil war like how we have now, so the I.C.W. was forced to step in."

"Anyway, after Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, the Ministry decided that there was no need to have such a large active Auror force to maintain law and order in the country, so by the time Voldemort began to seize power, it was less than one-quarter of its original number. More Aurors were killed during the Voldemort war and once it was over, Bagnold, and later Fudge cut the amount in the budget which was sanctioned to the D.M.L.E. That was due to Lucius Malfoy and his ilk. Keeping the Aurors on a back foot always helps those who want to rebel. That was the reason I personally donated money to the department and that's also the reason Alastor Moody is teaching at the Auror Academy. We need more people, but we just don't have quality applicants."

"Snape teaching Potions for a decade and a half didn't help matters at all. Dumbledore ensured that no one knew the effect Snape's teaching had on the country. I myself didn't know until I became Minister and saw the statistics. Snape has essentially crippled our country by ensuring that very, very few witches and wizards gain their Potions N.E.W.T. and thus not be able to join the Auror corps. Sure, there are those from other schools, but Hogwarts has always produced the best students."

"Anway," said Sirius, taking a deep breath. "I know that you are very busy, Harry, I can't tell you how proud of you I am for the apprenticeship in five subjects and taking a research project for a sixth but the fact is, unless the younger generation witches and wizards are taught properly, we don't stand a chance of increasing the Auror force. With Slughorn now teaching Potions, we don't have to worry about that, but Defence is more important for that line of work. I'm not trying to influence your decision, kiddo, but it would help on a massive scale in the future. Just think about it."

Of course, there was also the matter of where to teach the students if it came to that. Harry knew that making it an official club would go against Voldemort and Dumbledore's plans of making Snape the Defence teacher in the first place, so it had to remain a secret. He also didn't know how many people would be interested, so the idea of using an abandoned classroom was scrapped immediately. The Room of Requirement would work wonderfully, but there was no way in hell that Harry let the knowledge of that room spread amongst the students. That place was a gem and he guarded his secrets jealously. Besides, there was no telling what would happen if the Death Eaters found out about it and gave the information to Voldemort. The Dark Lord would then realise that his Horcrux might be in danger and come to retrieve it. If that happens ... well ... Harry had seen memories of Voldemort's temper getting the better of him. The insane man wouldn't hesitate to kill every child at Hogwarts.

Finally, in the first week of October, the day before the Hogsmeade weekend, Harry had decided to finally tell Daphne what he had decided. Of course, that was after the class he was supposed to teach. Professor Slughorn had gone even further than the other teachers and actually had him teach a fifth-year class!

As the Gryffindors and Slytherins shuffled into the dungeons, many were looking at Harry in surprise when they saw him standing on the teacher's dais in the classroom. Some had the manners to sit down and not ask questions, but others did not.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" said Ron Weasley irritably. He had lost his patience with Harry Potter the day he had shouted at Hermione so badly.

"Sit down, Mr Weasley," said Harry, in his usual emotionless voice. "I'll be taking the class today. You may all address me as Mr Potter or Apprentice Potter. Let us begin. Today we shall be working on the Draught of Peace; I was told that you have not yet covered it in your class, am I correct?"

When he got a few nods, he continued. "This potion is quite repeatedly asked in your O.W.L.s, so you had better pay close attention. It is also a potion that is regularly used, so it is useful to know how to brew it yourself. First, who can tell me the main ingredients needed to brew the Draught of Peace?"

Hermione Granger raised her hand in the air. "Powdered Moonstone, Syrup of Hellebore, powdered Unicorn Horn and powdered porcupine quills," she said briskly.

"Good, five points to Gryffindor. Now, let us begin with the properties of Moonstone in Potion-making ..."

The students all began taking notes in earnest as Harry began his explanation, occasionally mentioning the arithmetical properties and also the ingredients in relation to Astronomy. The class was enthralled by his detailed knowledge and Harry explained it in such a beautiful way that everyone could understand. Well, he did have to repeat himself a few times for others – it was a difficult concept, after all.

"Now, as I have stressed in my previous classes, Potion-making is very dangerous and should not be taken lightly," said Harry firmly. "If you remember back in first year, I used to create a shield around my cauldron. I will not let any of you attempt a potion in this class until I'm sure that a shield is in place. Now, I also have a little demonstration for you on how badly this potion could go wrong if you don't pay attention."

Harry stepped back and turned towards the cauldron which was simmering on the teacher's desk. "This potion is now purple in colour," said Harry. "Can anyone tell me what the next step is?"

Hermione raised her hand again, but since she had already answered three questions in a row, earning fifteen points to her house, Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the rest. "I'm not teaching a bunch of Inferi. If you don't interact with me, this class is going to be dry and boring. Again, what is the next step?"

Hermione stood up and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. When a few other hands rose in the air, he nodded, "Yes, Mr Nott?"

"This is the stage where you add the powdered porcupine quills," said Theo quietly.

"Correct, five points to Slytherin," said Harry, ignoring Hermione's look of annoyance at not being given a chance to answer the question. "However, we have to consider the properties of porcupine quills and what we are adding to. At this stage of the potion, the cauldron has to be taken off the heat. Can anyone tell me why?"

Hermione raised her hand immediately, but Harry saw others volunteering too. "Yes, Mr Longbottom?"

"It is because porcupine quills react badly with heat," said Neville softly, cringing at the memory of Snape berating him back in first year.

"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor. Now watch closely as to what can happen if you forget to take the cauldron off the heat. A simple mistake can cost you so much more."

Knowing that the class was watching him intently, Harry dropped a great chunk of the powdered porcupine quills into the cauldron. The students watched with bated breath as the cauldron melted and exploded violently, scraping the shields around the cauldron.

"This explosion could have severely injured all of you," said Harry quietly. "This is why I keep repeating that you should pay attention and also use the protective measures specified while preparing the potion. Now, the elemental properties of the porcupine quills state that ..."

After he finished his explanation, Harry made them individually prepare the Draught of Peace. The dungeon was soon filled with potion fumes, but Harry flicked his wand and activated the environmental charms, making the classroom visible again. Halfway there, he realised that someone had made a blunder.

"Mr Weasley, read the fifth line of the instructions for me, please," said Harry as he stood opposite to Ron.

Ron flushed as he read from the board, "Add syrup of hellebore until the potion turns turquoise."

"Did you forget that line, Mr Weaslery?"

"Yes, Mr Potter," said Ron through gritted teeth.

"Good, now that you realise that, I hope you don't make the same mistake again."

Instead of berating the boy as Snape used to so frequently do, he instead waved his wand over the cauldron, making it shimmer. The potion changed colours repeatedly until it was pale blue.

"Now, add the powdered moonstone and continue," Harry instructed him, as the rest of the class watched avidly. "You're very lucky that the person who taught me how to brew potions isn't here. Had I made a mistake such as that, he would have had a house-elf vanish the entire contents of the cauldron and all the ingredients with it. In fact, the moonstone hadn't been properly powdered too. There cannot be any lumps in it whatsoever. Again, he would have completely vanished my potion even if it was completed, just to make me do it over and over again until I had perfected it. Be glad that I'm not that strict. Pay attention to your work. That goes for all of you!"

Some were astounded when Harry mentioned the way he was taught Potions, others glad that no one expected something like that from them. When the time was up, Harry nodded in satisfaction when he saw that Ron Weasley's potion was near perfect.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Good job Mr Weasley. Five points to Gryffindor."

"Class dismissed."

Ron was shocked at having been awarded points for getting the potion right even after making a mistake; such a phenomenon had never happened in the dungeons before when Snape had been teaching them. The redhead walked out of the classroom in a daze while the rest of the students were chatting excitedly. Daphne winked flirtatiously at him and exited the classroom too. Harry shivered when he remembered what Daphne had prepared for them tonight. Student-teacher sex ... with his fiancée wearing a very short and revealing uniform ... kinky!

"Professor, how did I do?" asked Harry politely, ignoring the images that were forming in his mind, very glad that his robes covered the obvious bulge in his pants.

Slughorn didn't speak. He had been sitting in the corner of the class the entire time under a Disillusionment Charm, unknown to anyone but Harry. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. The boy was a natural.

"That was the most beautiful class on Potions I have ever seen from any of my apprentices and even a few professional teachers," said Slughorn, beaming at Harry. "Well done, my boy! Well done!"

Harry simply smiled.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I felt that I needed to address a certain issue. When I started this story, I did my best to avoid character bashing, but I agree that when it comes to Hermione, it feels that she is not being given a chance to prove herself. However, let me point out that this Hermione has not had experiences like in canon. She is still a staunch believer in authority figures and without Harry and Ron to help her, her negative attributes are more pronounced, those of which we have already seen in the books._**

 ** _Both Harry and Hermione are extremists – one is towards magical races and the other towards Muggles. Harry is not a pureblood bigot, but more of a person who believes in the might and purity of Magic. Hermione sees Muggle technology as much more advanced than the magical world, not to mention does not agree with their traditions, and this leads to friction, which is much worse than what Hermione and Draco had in canon. Both of them are flawed. Picture canon Hermione having to deal with this Harry – how else would she react? I may be wrong, but this is how I perceive her. I understand that I'm not giving her a chance, but for my storyline, this is how I want it to proceed. Hermione's a great girl, loyal and strong-willed, no doubt, but would she ever see it from Harry's point of view? Would Harry ever see it from her point of view? In my opinion, no._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	33. The Defence Association

**_Chapter 33_**

 ** _The Defence Association_**

The next day, Harry and Daphne were walking hand in hand in Hogsmeade, enjoying the crisp October morning in Scotland. They were idly talking as they made their way around the streets. It was surprisingly not crowded and Harry wondered why that was.

"No one can stop talking about your classes," Daphne smiled proudly. "I already knew that you were an excellent teacher, Harry, but the way you handled that Potions class was amazing!"

Harry smiled slightly but didn't say anything. "Now, where are we all supposed to meet?" he asked her.

"Near the large Beech tree facing the valley, away from Hogsmeade and prying eyes. A few dozen people are to meet us there."

Harry hummed. When they neared the Beech tree, Harry's eyes widened. He rounded on Daphne and demanded, "You call this a few dozen people? There are probably two hundred students here; one-quarter of the school!"

Daphne wasn't fazed by his anger. "And that is a problem because?" she asked calmly. _Better to nip things in a bud before we start fighting again._ "Look, you're going to teach them anyway, so what's the difference in having a hundred students instead of ten? Wouldn't having more students help in the long run as your father said?"

"And what if their friends want to join too?" hissed Harry. "Pretty soon, the entire school would want me to teach them. I don't know if you know this Daphne, but I'm not paid to teach. I do so in classes because it is part of my apprenticeship. This is –"

"If you don't want to teach them, just say so," said Daphne coolly. "Don't pick a fight in public. I'm already done arguing with you after last night and I'm not in the mood for yet another argument. You want more Aurors and this is the best possible method of getting them. For your information, many of them here are sixth and seventh-year students. They could easily join the Auror Corps right after graduation, especially with the new incentives being offered by the D.M.L.E. Don't think I'm ignorant of your long-term plans, Harry. I know that you consider the Muggles a threat and I also know that you believe we need more Aurors for protection in case of danger, and even with you teaching them all, it won't happen overnight; it'll take three to five years but the numbers will eventually rise. I'm giving you the perfect opportunity to gain their loyalty which would reap benefits in the future. Take it or leave it, I don't particularly care."

Daphne turned and walked towards the large group with Harry slowly walking behind her. While she knew that she had her faults, Harry was no different. Sometimes she felt like pulling her hair out in frustration at the way he behaved and how closed off he was with his emotions. She knew that Harry wouldn't be who he is if he weren't so emotionally detached most of the time, but that didn't mean she should like it _all_ the time. He was also a very proud boy and it was difficult to get him to back down, even for the simplest of matters. She understood that he was under tremendous pressure lately and she did her utmost best to help and support him, but that was not to say she would be fine with _constantly_ being his punching bag. There were days when she was stressed and irritable too.

Who knew living with another person was so difficult?

Both Harry and Daphne were true alpha personalities and as they grew up, they were scraping shields more than usual. That was not to say that they didn't love each other unconditionally, but with both of them being dominant and assertive, it was difficult to end an argument when both of them weren't willing to back down.

According to her mother, both of them were acting like teenagers. Daphne didn't understand that at all! That was what her mother said to everything. Didn't older couples fight too? Oh yes, according to her mother, they did fight, but they also tended to _compromise_.

That word did not exist in either Harry or Daphne's vocabulary.

"Are you okay?" asked Dylan worriedly.

"Fine," said Harry quietly as he began casting privacy and notice-me-not charms around the entire group; no need for others to overhear.

"Hello everyone," said Daphne loudly. "Thank you all for coming here. We have gathered here because a few of us were discussing the curriculum of Defence Against the Dark Arts and how it is being taught, or more specifically, how it is not being taught by Professor Snape."

"Here, here," said Anthony Goldstein. "He's worse than how he was in Potions."

"Yeah, he doesn't show the wand movements, doesn't explain the theory, doesn't demonstrate for us, and expects perfect results on the first try!" said a seventh year Gryffindor heatedly, several others nodding grimly.

"His teaching method is just different, that's all," said a third year Slytherin defensively. "He is a teacher and Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him unless he knew that Professor Snape could teach."

Many growled at the girl when Daphne interrupted. "Not learning how to defend ourselves given the current climate is exactly what will lead us to our doom," she explained. "We are currently in a state of war and unless we can fight back, there is no hope for us."

"What do you think we should do?" said Zacharias Smith snidely. "Raise an army?"

"If you were at home during the holidays and your house was attacked, what are you going to do, Smith? Sit on the couch and brag to the Death Eaters about how well you did in Quidditch?" asked Harry pointedly, making the boy flush. "The purpose of this meeting is so that you can learn how to defend yourselves in case of an attack. When Death Eaters choose to attack, they don't do so one by one. A dozen will attack at the same time and take you out. Tell me, can you all defend yourselves against a dozen Killing Curses coming at you at the same time?"

There was absolute silence as nobody was willing to answer. "Or how about the thousands of Dementors that are plaguing the country right now?" asked Harry casually. "Do I need to remind you of the attack that took place two years ago?"

"What about the Aurors?" asked a fourth-year girl. "Surely they would protect us, right?"

"And how long do you think it would take for the Death Eaters to kill you if you are standing right in front of them? It would all be over in a matter of seconds, long before the Ministry could even detect it. The Aurors cannot help you all the time and thanks to Bagnold and Fudge ruining the Auror corps over the years, they are limited in number. Unless you all learn to defend yourselves, you'll end up like the couple of thousand witches and wizards who died in the last war. This is not a game."

"What we are offering you is a chance to learn and train," Daphne took over. "Harry is willing to teach you if you are willing to learn. You all also want to pass your exams, right? With how Snape is currently teaching, it's not going to happen."

When there was a general murmur of agreement, Daphne continued, "Alright then, the next item of business is how often we do it. I was thinking two or three times a week because there is no point in meeting less frequently than that –"

"Hang on," Angelina piped in, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," Cho agreed, who had become the new Ravenclaw Seeker after Harry had left, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith and there was a murmur of agreement amongst the Slytherins too.

"Do you think Quidditch is more important as of this date than your lives?" asked Dylan irritably before Harry could answer. "The lives of your parents, the lives of your siblings?"

"That's rich coming from the son of a Death Eater," Marietta Edgecombe sneered. "Like you have anything to worry about, Lestrange. When are you going to be joining daddy dearest to murder innocent people?"

Everyone sucked in a breath as she said it, looking at Harry expectantly. There was no doubt in everyone's mind that this was going to end badly. Even Zacharias Smith, in all his arrogance, was not stupid enough to say something like this. _No one_ messed with Dylan Lestrange and got away with it.

"Get out," said Daphne darkly. There was a strange white tint to her blue eyes. She looked furious.

"Excuse me?" said Marietta sharply.

"She told you to get out," said Harry in a cold voice, his own eyes glowing a shade of blackish-green. "We don't want you here. I have tolerated enough from you when I was a student myself. You picked on me but I didn't have a problem with that as you were not worth my time. You said that fame had gone to my head when I got into the accelerated program, spreading rumours about me in the process, and I ignored you. I found you bullying Luna Lovegood, stealing her clothes and books, and I had to step in to put a stop to it. I don't even want to think about how much Luna would have suffered if I hadn't found out a few months into her first year. You kept insulting and harassing my brother constantly and I warned you to back off and I have finally reached the end of my tether. Daphne and I aren't obligated to put up with your shit anymore. You better walk out of here right now, Edgecombe or you'll face our wrath."

"Harry, Daphne, it's fine," said Dylan quietly. "If I wanted to murder people, Edgecombe, I would have done it already. The fact that you are still alive proves that I didn't go down the same route as my father. Now, can we carry on with the meeting?"

Marietta paled slightly, but when she saw the heated glares being sent her way, she huffed and walked back towards the village, trembling slightly. Harry Potter was terrifying when he was angry and she made a mental note to stay the hell away from him for the next few weeks. Maybe it was a good idea to stay away from Greengrass too. She had not forgotten what had happened the last time Daphne Greengrass had gotten angry during the Triwizard Tournament; the scars still remained.

"You also have to realise that these group sessions will be kept a secret," Daphne added. "You can't tell anyone because Voldemort doesn't want the younger generation trained and if the staff were to know what we're doing, word would soon reach the ears of the Death Eaters"

"You mean we don't have permission from the teachers?" asked Hermione, aghast. "What we're doing is illegal?"

"There no rule in the Hogwarts Charter that states that a club shouldn't be formed by the students, but all student organisations have traditionally been approved by the staff in the past. However, you are forgetting my unique position. I do wield power at Hogwarts; the only reason my father has stayed away is due to the war. As Smith so eloquently put in a few years ago, the Smith and Potter families ensure that we are well aware of the Hogwarts Charter and By-Laws from a young age. I'm sure he can confirm what I've just told you, not to mention you can borrow a copy of the Charter from the library. In response to your question, no, we're not doing anything illegal, but secrecy is necessary considering that we are at war."

"All those who are interested, please write your names in this book," said Daphne, after a pause. "We'll let you know when the next meeting will be and where."

People were quite nervous about writing their names but after several of them did so without complaint, they grumbled and complied. While the others may not have noticed it, Dylan and Astoria did seem troubled by the frosty atmosphere between Harry and Daphne; the older couple seemed to be fighting constantly over the last few weeks. Giving them one last worried look, the younger couple walked away, hand in hand, wanting to explore more of the village.

Daphne quietly packed everything and carefully tucked the book with the names into a deep, secure pocket in her robes. Just as she was about to leave, she felt someone grab her wrist. She didn't pull away.

Harry slowly walked towards her, squeezing her hand as he did so. "I'm sorry, Daphne," he said softly. "I know that you were only doing what was best, trying to help me achieve my goals. I didn't even think about the time and effort you must have spent to get so many people here. I really do appreciate it, and I'm sorry for getting short with you. I'm just frustrated with everything that's going on and –"

"I know," said Daphne quickly as she turned around to face him as her features softened. "I also understand that you needed to vent, and I don't mind that. But Harry, you can't dump your frustrations out on me day after day."

"I know," muttered Harry as he pulled her close, nuzzling her face against his. "I'm really sorry. I don't appreciate and cherish you as much as I should. I promise you that I will from today."

Daphne frowned. She never expected him to treat her like that. She didn't mind him showing his frustration out on her; just not _every_ _day_. She was his fiancée. Who else could he do that with?

"Harry, I don't – no, listen to me!" she said sharply when she saw that Harry was about to interrupt her. Intertwining her fingers with his, squeezing his hand slightly, she continued in a soft tone. "I understand that you're frustrated with everything that's going on. Working on so many Master's degrees is very hard work and I don't mind you taking your anger out on me. I'm your fiancée, Harry, and that is not just a title. I'm your life partner and it is my duty to take care of you. I have never expected you to treat me like a queen. Your love for me is more than enough and I would gladly make sacrifices to keep you happy, just as you have always done for me. But you have to understand that there are days when I'm tired and frustrated too and your irritation combined with mine becomes a trigger for us to fight. I've come to realise that living together is really not as easy as I once thought."

"Are you going to move out of my quarters?" asked Harry, sounding worried, but very touched by her words as well.

"Of course not!"

"Good! But Daph, I promise you that in the future I won't –"

He was cut off when Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a loving kiss. Harry smiled into the kiss and gently stroked her wavy dark blonde hair with his fingers as he tightened his grip around her slim waist. A minute later, they parted, breathing heavily, their foreheads touching each other. The green and blue orbs locked gazes as love and pure adoration mirrored each other. Yes, both Harry and Daphne were not perfect and each had plenty of faults, but they were perfect for each other. As an ideal couple, they tended to balance each other's strengths and weaknesses and were only complete as a whole. Their relationship had its ups and downs, but they were confident that their undying love would never fade, their inner fire for each other only growing stronger with time.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

Harry dipped his head as he kissed her neck, pushing her against the large Beech tree, making her squeak in surprise.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Well," he said slowly. "I found one of your romance novels tucked away under the bed."

Daphne's face burned in embarrassment. "You found that?" she asked, horrified.

"Yup," he smirked at her. "Nice glamour charm, but it wasn't strong enough to fool me. I didn't know that you liked porn!"

"It's not porn!" she hissed at him. "What you and Dylan have in the bathroom is porn, not the books I read!"

"How did you find those?" asked Harry, looking surprised. "I thought we'd hidden them well!"

"Last week, I caught Dylan masturbating in our common room, staring at those women who were featured in your blasted _Playwitch_ magazines. In exchange for not telling either Blaise or Theo about the incident so that they wouldn't tease him about it, Dylan told me all about your secret stash."

"Well, at least we have no secrets from each other," Harry grinned at her. "I did find one particular scene interesting in that book of porn, though."

"It's not porn!"

"Whatever you say," he said, enjoying the indignant look on her face. "Anyway, there is this particular scene where the female protagonist and her boyfriend make love outside, right after they had reconciled after a fight. Daphne, who knew notice-me-not charms were so useful?"

"That's fiction!" A soft moan escaped her lips when Harry's fingers explored her bare stomach, his hand already under her shirt.

 _When did that happen?_

"Please, Daphne? I promise not to tell anyone about your porn collection."

"Harry, are you pouting?"

"No!"

Daphne smirked slightly and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well," she said softly, their faces impossibly close. "If you pout for me again, I promise to make love to you right here, right now, just like in the romance novel. And for the last time, it's not porn!"

Harry's eyes lit up in surprised happiness. No one other than Daphne had seen this side of him, ever. He flashed a lopsided grin at her, full of happiness and mirth, an expression that was reserved for her eyes only.

"Really?" he asked excitedly. He pouted as requested and joked, "You're not taking advantage of poor, innocent little Harry, are you?"

"Oh, Harry," cooed Daphne, cupping his cheek. "You lost your innocence a few months ago – and I was the one to take it from you!"

Harry smiled as he captured her lips, his fingers slowly sliding down her face to her neck, down her collarbone and finally to the locket that was hanging from around her neck; the same locket bearing the Potter crest he had gifted her on her twelfth birthday. With a squeeze, he activated a strong notice-me-not charm.

Daphne grinned as she flicked her wand, vanishing their trousers, leaving them both nude from the waist down. With another wave, she cast warming charms on them.

"Weren't we supposed to meet our friends for lunch?" panted Harry sometime later, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his hips moving in a steady rhythm against hers, pumping his cock in and out of her vagina.

"Dylan and Astoria will cover for us," Daphne moaned as she arched her back in pleasure. They didn't speak a word as they were soon lost in ecstasy.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Gummy Bears," said Harry as he neared the gargoyle which guarded the headmaster's office. The gargoyle stepped aside and Harry walked up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Harry entered the office, face impassive as usual as he walked forward. "Hello, sir," he said politely. "You called for me?"

"Yes, Harry, take a seat," said Dumbledore, looking tired and worn-out. "First, I must say that I am very impressed with your teaching skills. You truly have a gift, my boy. If you ever were to choose this field, the doors of Hogwarts are always open to you."

"That's kind of you, sir, but while I do enjoy teaching, it's not something I would want to do all the time. I have bigger plans for the future and teaching isn't on my list."

"And what might those plans be?" asked Dumbledore kindly.

"You'll find out eventually," said Harry casually. _But considering the fact that you are going to die soon, I don't see that happening._

"Hmm," said Dumbledore, stroking his beard. "Anyway, the reason I have called you here, Harry, is because I think it is time we have a few lessons of our own."

Harry sat straighter. "Alchemy?" he asked, his eyes glinting with interest and hope.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I can see why the Sorting Hat placed you in Ravenclaw, Harry," he replied good-naturedly. "No, I'm afraid not. No, what we'll be discussing is something far more important. I'm sure you'll find the information that I'm about to divulge intriguing."

Harry simply raised an eyebrow at that. What was the old coot up to this time?

A few minutes later, Harry understood what was going on. He could immediately recognise the Gaunt shack and Morfin Gaunt from Voldemort's memories and from his own – he had been to the place before, after all. He knew that Tom had murdered his uncle when he was sixteen and the very same day, had murdered his father and grandparents. He watched the confrontation dispassionately, wondering how such an old and powerful family had been reduced to blatant poverty and lack of brains.

"Salazar would have been horrified that his descendants, even if it was from his blood-adopted son, were living like that," said Harry as they came out of the Pensieve. "Snakes are considered sacred by the Slytherin family and to think Morfin was willing to kill them so mercilessly proves why they were not worthy of the Slytherin family title and fortune in the first place."

"I assume you have recognised them?" asked Dumbledore lightly.

"Of course, the Gaunts were well-known for their level of insanity amongst the nobility as well as the common folk. They were the laughing stock of Magical Britain for a long time. I assume Merope Gaunt was Voldemort's mother while the Muggle was his father. Marvolo, his grandfather and Morfin his uncle, am I correct?"

"Sharp as always, Harry, yes," said Dumbledore, nodding in approval. Harry mentally rolled his eyes as Dumbledore spouted drivel about love potions and running away and he wondered just what the point of it all was. Surely the old man could just come to the point, right? But Dumbledore never worked that way and Harry never expected him to reveal any secrets this soon. Harry himself never did, so why should he expect the same from Dumbledore?

Either way, his parents would most definitely be interested in knowing what the old man was up to.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Is this where we're going to meet?" whispered Zacharias Smith, sounding annoyed. "In an abandoned classroom? It is hardly big enough to fit two hundred people, let alone practice magic."

"Relax," said Ernie. "I doubt Potter is that stupid. He's probably found a place. It's only been three days since we decided to form a Defence club. I'm actually surprised that he called us this soon."

Dylan was acting as though he wasn't paying attention, but that was an interesting quirk of his which he used to spy on people. Using the notice-me-not charm on his locket to great effect, he wandered around the large, abandoned classroom, listening to everyone talk. After twenty minutes, he realised that it was okay to proceed. There was no one here that would prove to be potentially dangerous. Giving the signal to his brother, he waited as he sat next to Astoria.

"Welcome, everyone, to our first Defence class," said Harry confidently. He was dressed in form-fitting clothes, his hair tied in a short ponytail. "Everyone follow me."

People were wondering where they were headed as they walked towards a dark corridor away from the classroom. They were on the fourth floor and the people in the front saw Harry tap a blank stretch of wall and hiss in Parseltongue. The Slytherin ring glowed for a moment and the wall opened with a hiss, showing them a wide passage to slip into.

"Keep up and follow me," said Harry. The first group followed him, with Daphne leading the ones in the middle and Dylan bringing up the rear. The students were lead through another passageway, down several flights of stairs, until another wall opened again and they stepped into an enormous chamber. The green light and snake statues made it easy to recognise.

"Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets," announced Harry. He waited for everyone to come through as he sealed the passageway again. Just as he turned, he heard someone scream in alarm.

"What?"

"T-That skeleton!" shrieked Hannah Abbott in fright. "That's the Basilisk, isn't it?"

"That must be like seventy feet long!" exclaimed Lavender Brown, backing away.

"Oh come on, it's just a skeleton," Harry exhaled as he led them to the middle of the chamber. "The real one was a lot scarier. Anyway, this is the best place for us to hold our classes. No one other than me can give you access so we don't have to worry about teachers finding us to hand out detention. Now, I – yes, Granger?"

Hermione had raised a hand like how she did in class. "I think we should elect a leader," she said briskly.

"Harry's the leader," said Colin Creevey quickly.

"This isn't a hierarchy," explained Daphne in a calm voice. "This is not an organisation either. We are trying to learn how to defend ourselves and we have a teacher. That's it. Everything else is superfluous."

"I still think we should have a name," said Hermione, sounding slightly annoyed that her idea was shot down. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity."

Harry mentally sighed, praying to Mother Magic for patience. _Was it really worth it? They hadn't even started and they were already getting on his nerves._ "Fine, what name do you want for the group?"

There was a discussion for about two minutes until Cedric Diggory asked, "How about the 'Defence Association'?"

"That's a good idea," replied Cho, agreeing with her boyfriend. "We can call it D.A. for short. It would be easier to communicate."

"Or maybe we can call it Dumbledore's Army," Hermione said. "After all, everyone knows that Dumbledore is the only one You-Know-Who ever feared."

"Absolutely not," said Harry firmly. "This is not an army and I don't want people to think this is one and I'm most certainly not going to be involved in a group that has Dumbledore's name in it. He and I don't see eye to eye and I don't want his name representing a group that I'm going to teach. The Defence Association is a good idea. Is everyone fine with that so we may move on?"

When they all nodded, he clapped his hands once. "Great," he said. "Now, let's begin. I want all of you to pair up and give yourselves room. This place is massive so don't worry about any space requirements. Quickly, now!"

There was shuffling seen as everyone moved to find a partner and stood in front of Harry. Even though he said that it was not an army, it certainly looked like one from his perspective.

"Now, the first thing we're going to be learning is how to dodge spells."

"That's it?" said Zacharias Smith loudly. "You're not going to teach us magic? If I had known then I wouldn't have come."

"Really?" said Dylan, throwing the obnoxious Hufflepuff a dark look. "You think dodging spells is irrelevant?"

"Well, I don't see how it can help," said Smith with an arrogant shrug.

"Alright, Smith," said Harry, looking at the boy critically. "Say I fire a spell at you, right now, which is red in colour. What are you going to do to defend yourself?"

"Shield, of course," said Smith, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Very good," said Harry sarcastically. "That would work against a low powered stunner. What if I'm using the Cruciatus Curse on you? Or a Blood-Boiling Curse? Can you tell the difference in the different shades of red in a moment's notice?"

"But the Cruciatus Curse is illegal!"

"Just because the spell is illegal doesn't mean people won't use it! The elementary mistake everyone makes is that you all shield and not dodge. A witch or wizard who is stronger than you could easily shatter your shield with a powerful spell. There are a variety of curses that would make your shield useless. The Unforgivable Curses would also pass through the shield as though it weren't there. Let me demonstrate."

Motioning them to join him, Harry said, "Fred, George and Dylan are going to fire spells at me at the same time, and I'm going to defend myself _without_ magic. Boys, give me the best you've got and don't go easy on me."

"Step back," said Daphne as the boys got into position. "Begin!"

Everyone watched as Fred, George and Dylan began firing spells at Harry from different directions. Harry, on the other hand, was dancing around them all without a wand in hand as he avoided getting hit. Using a somersault, he avoided a blasting curse courtesy of Dylan as he moved to the other side and kicked Fred, disarming him. He managed to dodge the rest of the spells until George was out too. Many were surprised at how talented Dylan Lestrange truly was as his spells got more powerful and deadlier.

"Level Three," shouted Harry. "Lethal spells."

"Aye," shouted Dylan.

 _"Diffindo!"_

 _"Bombarda!"_

 _"Reducto!"_

Everyone gasped as cutting curses and exploding curses rocked the chamber, but Harry dodged them, slowly moving closer to Dylan. A bone shattering curse too was dodged until Harry punched Dylan in the face and with a swift kick, disarmed the boy and made him fall on his butt.

"This is the power of dodging spells," said Harry, breathing hard. Holding out his hand, he pulled his brother up, muttering spells under his breath as he healed the other boy's injuries. "None of you has the skill to take on members of the inner circle Death Eaters. If you come across any of them, none of you stands a chance. It is better to dodge their spells because trust me, you do _not_ want to get on the bad side of Bellatrix or Rodolphus Lestrange. They like to play with their food before they eat it. Does anyone else have any problems with learning how to dodge spells?"

When no one protested, Harry smirked slightly. "Good, then let's get started."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry dragged himself to his suite as he crashed on one of the couches in the common room. The painting of the eagle opened again and his two unofficial roommates entered as well.

"I think that was a pretty good first lesson, Harry," said Daphne tiredly as she lay down next to him, leaning her head on his chest as she stretched her legs.

"Understatement of the century," muttered Dylan. "That was probably the best Defence class I've ever had."

"You already know how to dodge," pointed out Harry.

"That doesn't mean I can't improve! My record is fifteen minutes against an enchanted dummy. I can't last a minute when you're firing spells at me. It's a good thing you started on this instead of actually teaching us defensive spells. By the way, I know this is supposed to be a secret, but what is stopping them from revealing it to someone else?"

"When I said that they _can't_ , I meant it," said Daphne, smiling wickedly. "I charmed the book in which they all wrote their names. It ensures that they can't speak about what we're doing with anyone whose name is not written in the book. If they do try, it's all gibberish. With two hundred people, we're bound to have someone who'll turn traitor, though I'm hoping that won't be the case."

"Beauty and brains," muttered Harry as he stroked her hair.

"I'm so exhausted that I can't even bring myself to walk to my room," Dylan yawned and stretched on the couch. "Wake me up tomorrow, will you? Good night."

"I agree," said Daphne sleepily as her eyes drifted shut.

Harry sighed. Sleeping on the couch couldn't possibly be comfortable, could it? Oh well ... if you can't beat them, join them!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Draco Malfoy was nervous as he walked into the throne room of the Dark Lord's manor. The place was actually quite elegant once it was cleaned up and was said to have the best wards and protective enchantments available, with the Dark Lord himself putting up a Fidelius Charm. It was the 31st of October, and the Dark Lord no doubt wanted to know about his progress with the Vanishing Cabinet. He idly looked around, wondering where his father was, as he was lead into the throne room by his aunt.

"My Lord," said Draco, sinking to his knees in respect. He did not notice his Aunt Bella slip out of the room nor his father who was tied up in the corner, disillusioned.

"Draco," breathed Voldemort, his red eyes boring into the fifteen-year-old boy. "Rise, my young friend and tell me how goes the progress with the mission I assigned to you more than _two months ago_."

Lucius winced and held back a sob as he realised what was going to happen. His son was going to pay for _his_ failures but coupled with Draco's inability in repairing the cabinet and not getting Dumbledore killed, it was going to be horrible to watch. Mentally, he braced himself. There was a reason he was tied up, after all. Draco was going to be tortured and he was being made to watch.

"Ah, Severus, come in," said Voldemort silkily and Draco's head turned sharply when he saw his Defence teacher walk in. "We were just discussing Draco's progress; or lack thereof."

Draco swallowed. "My Lord, I am making progress. I have figured out the materials I need to fix the cabinet and also the rune cluster I need to carve on it. However, it is difficult to bring them into the castle."

"You promised me that Dumbledore would be dead by the end of October, Draco," said Voldemort dangerously.

"Y-Yes, my Lord," he stammered. "I'm working on it and I promise you that –"

"I don't have much use for incompetent servants."

Draco barely had time to register what was going on when he was screaming in pain. It was more pain than he had ever imagined! His body was on fire, he was being killed, his nerves were going to be ripped apart! No, he couldn't take it anymore!

"Did that hurt, dear Draco?" cooed Voldemort, smirking at him. "Tsk, tsk, look at that, Severus. Our little baby dragon has wet himself! He couldn't even stand a few seconds under the Cruciatus Curse. Do you think you have what to takes to be a Death Eater?"

Draco couldn't answer as he was twitching and moaning. Tears were flowing down his pale face as he was tortured over and over again.

"I am losing patience, Draco," Voldemort sneered, pinning the boy down with his foot. "When I said I want Dumbledore dead as quickly as possible, I meant it. You better get it done soon, boy, or you will suffer the consequences. Those consequences are definitely something you would want to avoid – if you fail, Draco, I will torture and kill you, your mother and your father. Let that thought be an incentive for you to work harder and get the mission done. Macnair, take our young guest and dump him outside Hogsmeade."

"Yes, Master," muttered Macnair as he exited the room, dragging the twitching boy.

"That was a warning to you as well, Lucius," said Voldemort as he cancelled the spells binding Malfoy Sr. "Another mistake on your part and you will pay."

"Yes, my Lord," said Lucius quietly.

"Good," said Voldemort. "I need information from you both. Severus, you told me that Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange live together in one of the Potter properties half the time and the rest with Sirius and Amelia Black, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Snape, his face blank. "They usually stay together at Potter Castle, but as of late, they spend more time at Black Manor. Dumbledore believes it is due to Potter now acknowledging Sirius and Amelia Black as his parents. I have observed Potter's movements over the years, and I believe that he always spends the first day of the holidays at his family castle, regardless of the circumstances. I have unfortunately not been able to track his movements after he enters the castle during the holidays as the wards and various protective enchantments are usually raised to their maximum setting immediately upon his arrival."

"Ah, yes, I have heard about the impressive wards around this Potter Castle," said Voldemort as he ran his fingers over Nagini's head. "I believe Dumbledore sent you to look around the place to get more information?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Snape after a moment's hesitation. Truthfully, he had not been able to find out anything of value which he and Dumbledore hadn't already known or suspected.

"Lucius, Harry invited you to Potter Castle for a ball a year ago, is that right?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Lucius quickly. "I had a lot of time to search the place for any weaknesses when Potter wasn't looking."

Voldemort leaned forward, a smirk forming on his lipless mouth. "Tell me everything you know of the layout and wards of the castle and also any other information you have about it; historical records of fights, the Potter Massacre, anything."

Lucius swallowed. He was going to be tortured again. There was a reason the Potter family was shrouded in mystery – they were notoriously secretive. He only hoped that whatever information he had would be sufficient.

Voldemort's red eyes glowed with triumph as he heard the report.


	34. The war heats up

**_Chapter 34_**

 ** _The War Heats Up_**

Harry once again found himself in front of Dumbledore, with the Pensieve placed in front of them on the headmaster's desk. He wondered what the old man was going to pull this time. He had also heard about the incident with his mentor.

"Sir, how is Professor Slughorn?" asked Harry quietly.

"Very lucky," said Dumbledore grimly. "The poison in his drink was not very potent, but fast reacting. If he hadn't reacted so quickly to save himself, he may not be alive today."

Harry wondered why anyone would want to poison Slughorn. Voldemort deeply respected the man, but maybe the Dark Lord had decided to get rid of the only person who had the faintest clue about his Horcruxes? Hmm ... he would have to think about this.

Dumbledore looked faintly troubled. He knew who that bottle of mead was meant for, but the fact that young Draco Malfoy did not do his homework and gave something that tasty to Slughorn, not expecting him to keep it for himself, alarmed Albus. The boy had nearly caused Slughorn's death and Albus would have to keep an eye out so that there were no more 'accidents'.

As they continued their lesson, Harry balled his hand into a fist. Really, was it so hard to use a bloody contraceptive charm or a potion? He and Daphne did it all the time! Forget them, half the students in the fifth, sixth and seventh years were so used to the charm that they could cast it in their sleep. The contraceptive potion also was not something which was difficult to brew and was available everywhere. Madam Pomfrey ensured that all the girls at Hogwarts were safe from getting pregnant. Unexpected pregnancy was just something that was unheard of in the magical world and yet, Merope was able to whip up a love potion – which was quite tricky to make, mind you – and yet could not whip up a contraceptive potion which any competent _second-year_ _student_ could do? But then again, it might have been deliberate. Getting pregnant might have been Merope's intention all along.

Then there was Tom Riddle Senior. Harry knew the man was not to blame for his wife's pregnancy because he was tricked into the marriage in the first place. However, there was also the fact that Merope was pregnant. Harry shook his head in disgust. Children were sacred in the magical world. There were no cases of abandonment and that was the reason there were no orphanages either. If the parents died, there was always some magical relative who would take their child into their home. If Riddle Senior had just checked up on his son and done his duty, Tom Riddle Junior might not have resorted to being the insane Dark Lord that he was! Sadly, it wasn't really the man's fault; he was tricked by Merope. He was a victim.

His opinion of them, however, only dwindled as he watched the memories.

"A locket which was worth a million Galleons was sold for _ten Galleons_?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity," said Dumbledore casually. "So we know that, near the end of her pregnancy, Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was one of Marvolo's treasured family heirlooms ... she also stopped using magic, if I had to guess, after her husband abandoned her. It is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life."

Harry shook his head in disgust. "She wouldn't even stay alive for her own son?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?"

"Of course I'm feeling sorry for the young Tom Riddle," said Harry, sounding annoyed, though his face remained perfectly expressionless. Sometime Dumbledore wondered how he did that; it reminded him again of his old friend, Gellert Grindelwald, who was a natural Occlumens himself.

"It was Marvolo Gaunt's fault for the way he mistreated his daughter. It was Merope's fault for dosing Riddle Senior with a love potion," said Harry angrily. "It was her fault that she was stupid enough to not use a contraceptive potion to prevent herself from getting pregnant. She could have slipped a male contraceptive potion in her husband's drink and he would have been none the wiser. It was ridiculous of her to have stopped feeding him the love potion. It was immoral of Riddle Senior to have left his unborn son without any help. It was Merope's fault for getting swindled out of Salazar's locket, denying Tom his inheritance. It was again Merope and Riddle's fault that she died in the orphanage, leaving Tom with the tender care of those filthy Muggles. None of this was Tom's fault at all! He was just an innocent child, a newborn _infant_! He suffered for years because of his parents' mistakes, so I will say that yes, I feel bad for one Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

Dumbledore was speechless. This was not something he had expected from Harry at all. The boy was supposed to see Voldemort as pure evil, but how could he do that if he was feeling sorry for _Voldemort_?

"I see," said Dumbledore slowly. "If you'll care to watch the next memory, Harry, we'll see more of what I've collected."

As they came out of the Pensieve half an hour later, Harry didn't react at all. He had seen this memory before after all, but he had not seen the part where Dumbledore had spoken to Mrs Cole. He had to wonder how many other magical children were suffering like this in Muggle orphanages without help. Tom and Dylan couldn't be the only ones, could they?

"Harry?" asked Dumbledore, frowning at the still boy.

"You suspected him for every small infraction that took place at Hogwarts the minute he entered the school, didn't you?" asked Harry casually. "You believed the words of a Muggle and saw him as evil and branded him so. No wonder he turned out like that if he was forced to go back to that hellhole every summer."

Dumbledore's frown deepened. "What was wrong with Mrs Cole's assessment of Tom?" he asked shrewdly, though he thought he knew the answer. "Was it because she was a Muggle?"

"Of course," Harry answered, his eye twitching in annoyance. "Her opinion of Tom was clouded by the fact that he was unnatural, a _freak_ ," spat Harry. "She would never have protected Tom from the older bullies because she believed something was wrong with him. Didn't you hear? _'We thought she was from a circus.'_ Did you think her opinion would have stayed with her? How many would have harassed Tom because of her comments? It's the same all over again! _'Lestrange is such a strange name, isn't it? The boy is weird'; 'My sister Lily was a whore and she got knocked up and had to marry this drunken layabout who died in a car crash, with their bastard of a child ruining our perfectly good home!'_ All of them are the same! You should never have sent him back to that place again!"

"Not all children are abused, Harry," said Dumbledore, his eyes turning slightly cold. "Just because you and Dylan –"

"And how would you know that Tom wasn't abused?" hissed Harry angrily. "It's not like Mrs Cole would have admitted that she tried to get an exorcism done on the boy! No one ever reveals such information until it is forced out of us!"

"Exorcism?" asked Dumbledore sharply.

"It's a Muggle procedure," Harry said bitterly, "to take care of _'demons'_ and _'ghosts'_ that have possessed Muggles. Do you have _any_ idea how scary it is to undergo something like that as a child? I was merely five years old when the Dursleys subjected that to me! Dylan was six years old when they did it to him! It was done to Tom too!"

"And how do you know that?" asked Dumbledore. "Harry, I see the problem. You are getting confused. This is _Voldemort_ we are talking about. You are trying to validate your claims that Voldemort was not at fault! Didn't you hear of the boy's atrocities? The incident in the cave where he tortured two children? The incident when he killed that rabbit? When he stole from his enemies? Yes, I kept a keen eye on him when he came to Hogwarts, but it was not unfounded because he opened the Chamber of Secrets and let loose the Basilisk that petrified several students, finally killing one Ravenclaw girl. Yes, I don't deny that Voldemort suffered, but you are seeing everything from _your_ point of view! That is not how he was!"

 _Actually, I was seeing everything from his point of view. I have the unique advantage of having all his memories._

Harry took a deep breath as he mentally kicked himself. Such a subject really rattled him because it came very close to home. He could never get over the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys; it was a scar that would never fade and he knew that Dylan felt the same. The horrors Dylan had endured at the orphanage for eleven years had left him a shell, nothing more. It was only because of the constant attention which Harry, Daphne, Sirius and Amelia showered on him that helped Dylan get back up and boost his self-confidence.

Either way, he had revealed more than he had intended to Albus Dumbledore. It was time to do some damage control, even if it meant apologising. His pride was just not worth the repercussions of Dumbledore not revealing any more secrets – or worse, suspecting him of having access to Voldemort's memories.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Harry quietly. "You're right. This is Voldemort we are talking about. But it would have been tactful of you to have avoided showing me that memory considering my own traumatised past. I have not forgotten my childhood with the Dursleys nor have I forgotten what happened to my brother."

"I'm glad you realise that, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "I think we shall stop here for tonight."

"Good night, sir," said Harry as he got up from the chair and made his way out of the room.

Fawkes trilled softly behind him. Dumbledore sighed and closed his eyes in despair. Was that one decision of leaving Harry with Petunia the cause of so much trouble?

"How I wish I could fix that mistake, Fawkes. How I dearly wish I could."

The phoenix trilled mournfully for his companion.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Light snow was falling from the evening sky in London. Several witches and wizards were walking around Diagon Alley, obviously wanting to do a bit of shopping for Yule before the alley would be packed with people in a few days. It was about six in the evening, with activated lighting charms, bathing the alley and the various shops in bright, colourful light. The festive mood was in the air and people were starting to wonder why there hadn't been any more attacks from the Death Eaters in quite some time now.

The masked men and woman quietly applied their Disillusionment Charms from where they were standing at the mouth of Knockturn Alley. They wouldn't stay invisible for long, though. What was the point in attacking the alley if people didn't know that the Death Eaters were the ones who were responsible? They also had a target to kidnap – Florean Fortescue. His grandson, Lord Fortescue, was stirring trouble in the Wizengamot for the Dark Lord, so this should send out a message to him and the rest. According to what Rabastan had heard, Sirius Black was quite frustrated that the Wizengamot wasn't willing to agree on anything and vote on the bills which would help the Ministry win the war. But even without the Wizengamot's support, Minister Black was doing everything possible to make things more difficult for the Dark Lord; the black market was a perfect example. Getting illegal supplies had become infinitely more difficult nowadays.

"Remember our orders," said Rabastan to the dozen Death Eaters he had under his command. "Cause mayhem, but don't kill people outright; we don't want a mass rebellion. If people fight back, feel free to kill them. In fact, we have received a tip that there are two Order members who are on patrol in the alley today. Eliminate them. Also, destroy Fortescue's shop when you kidnap him. Is everyone ready?"

When they nodded, the group headed out and stood near the ice cream shop. With an identical _snap_ , their Disillusionment Charms were deactivated and the people around them stood rigidly, staring at them in shock until they realised what was happening.

There was a sound like an explosion going off as the Death Eaters started their raid. Jets of light flew from their wands as more and more buildings were damaged. A group of Death Eaters moved towards Fortescue's ice cream shop as they blasted the entrance open, injuring several people in the process. Rabastan grinned maniacally behind his mask as he saw the two Order members rushing towards the disturbance. One of them was that stupid Muggle-loving blood traitor – he was of no consequence because he was not very skilled in combat, but the other one would be a worthy challenge.

Snape's information was accurate.

In the scuffle, Rabastan's mask dropped to the ground, destroyed, displaying his face to everyone. He didn't stop though. The grey eyes glinted in delight as he saw the look of shock and sheer terror etched on the two faces as they recognised him. The jets of green light impacted the bodies as they fell to the ground, dead.

Three of the new recruits were killed by the Aurors during the fight, but it was worth it. Two members of the Order of the Phoenix had been killed, the wizarding public was more terrified than before, and a message had been sent to Sirius Black and the Wizengamot.

Rabastan Lestrange was happy. Now, he would have to patiently wait for a week. The Dark Lord had a plan ... a plan that would bring Dylan back home. Finally, Rabastan would be able to meet his son that he had been pining for so long.

Of course, the Dark Lord also wanted Harry Potter, but Rabastan was more interested in Dylan. Too bad he could not take part in the kidnapping.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _DEATH EATERS ATTACK DIAGON ALLEY!_

 _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop destroyed_

 _Florean kidnapped by Death Eaters_

 _AURORS KILL THREE MORE DEATH EATERS_ _DURING THE ATTACK!_

 _Fifty people reported to have suffered serious injuries – have been transferred to_ _St Mungo's Hospital for treatment_

 _RABASTAN LESTRANGE STRIKES AGAIN!_

 _MINISTRY EMPLOYEES ARTHUR WEASLEY AND EMMELINE VANCE MURDERED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!_

 _"Plans to install emergency warning system at the Ministry and other key areas have been approved by the Wizengamot; will be up and running within a week," says Amelia Black, Head of the D.M.L.E._

 _"My condolences to all the affected families," said Minister of Magic Sirius Black. "We are doing everything in our power to end the war as soon as possible."_

 _DIAGON ALLEY ON LOCKDOWN_ _FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS!_

There was deathly silence in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. All of them were intently reading the newspaper – the Weasleys had already left the school late last night when Dumbledore had informed them of the news. There were many eyes which were looking at the brown haired boy at the Ravenclaw table who was reading the newspaper with a blank look on his face. The boy's grey eyes kept staring at the picture of Rabastan Lestrange who seemed to be firing curses everywhere, a maniacal grin on his face. Dylan could feel the eyes boring into him from every corner of the Great Hall. Some were weary, but most looked hateful. The hate which was present at the beginning of his arrival at Hogwarts was back; and this time, Dylan didn't blame them. His father had killed two people and injured several others – some of whom had relatives at Hogwarts. He didn't know how he would look at the Weasleys in the face again.

Dylan closed his eyes as he heard a few angry whispers which mentioned his name. Closing the paper, he got up, noting that _everyone_ was now staring at him as though he would start killing them in an instant, and walked out of the Great Hall without a backward glance.

Astoria was about to stand up and go after him but Daphne put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head. When Astoria turned around, she noticed that Harry had walked out of the Hall too. Nodding to her sister, Astoria quietly sat down.

Both the Greengrass sisters were incensed. How was Dylan responsible for the actions of the father he had never met?

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Dylan Lestrange was sitting near the lake at his favourite spot with his knees pressed to his chest. This was a place he had found in his first year after having to brave the school's hatred of him for being the son of the hated Death Eater Rabastan Lestrange. He had always known that his father was a killer and had mercilessly tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity with the help of his Uncle Rodolphus and Aunt Bellatrix, but seeing it like this was like a slap in the face.

He couldn't deny it anymore. His father was a cold-blooded murderer; he had raped an innocent sixteen-year-old Muggle-born girl and Dylan had been the result. Even his mother had named him Lestrange only to spite her attacker. Why? Couldn't she have given him some other name, anything which didn't bring him so much misery? What else did he get? Oh yes, he got a big, fat bank account with mountains of gold, but what was the point? It's not like he cared about that anyway. He'd grown up in poverty all his life but a normal life would have been wonderful as compared to all that money. Tears stung his eyes as he wondered if his father would kill him someday too. Dylan did want to meet his father; he hadn't admitted this to anyone, not even Harry, but he wanted to meet Rabastan and find out once, just once, if the man would accept him as his son.

But now, all those feeling seemed to have become numb. He couldn't even picture Fred and George Weasley's faces anymore. The glares being directed his way did not help matters at all; why didn't anyone realise that he was a victim too? Tears leaked from his grief-stricken grey eyes and down his pale cheeks. He felt someone sit next to him and suddenly, he was crying unashamedly on his brother's chest as Harry hugged him tightly. Dylan hadn't cried in a long time now, but today was a day he had finally lost control. Harry remained silent as he gently rocked Dylan back and forth as he rubbed the boy's back soothingly, trying to calm him down.

After a few minutes, Dylan calmed down but hiccupped. Harry conjured a glass and filled it with water. He gently placed it at Dylan's mouth like his brother had done for him several months ago and made him drink. Several gulps of water later, Dylan wrapped his arms around Harry and he rested his head on his brother's shoulder, staring at the frozen lake.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Harry softly.

Dylan tightened his grip around his brother. "I – I don't know where to start," he whispered. "I had always known the crimes he had committed were numerous, but it was all in the past. But this time it is so _real_. I can't ignore it. The fact that Fred and George lost their father because my father is – is ... I don't know what to say."

"Even after everyone told me that he was a mass murderer, even after I found out what he did to the Longbottoms, I had always wanted to meet him," said Dylan quietly. "Even after I realised what he did to my mother, I still wanted to meet him. I wanted to know if he would ever accept me as his son, or if I was just a bastard child born because he got carried away. Even if he would never love me, I had always hoped that he would at the very least acknowledge me. But now, I don't want to be known as his son. I'm sick and tired of it all, Harry. I'm sick and tired of people always calling me a bastard child, always looking at me with terrified expressions on their faces as though I'm a ward stone with a time-delayed exploding curse on it, and I am _tired_ of them blaming me for my father's mistakes."

Harry smiled sadly as he hugged his brother closer, kissing the top of Dylan's head affectionately.

"Sometimes I wish I had never been born," said Dylan so quietly that Harry almost missed it.

Harry chuckled humourlessly. "We don't have that choice, Dylan. We don't choose the circumstance of our birth. My parents were only twenty-six years old when they died and I was the reason they were murdered. Voldemort might have still gone after them because of them being in the Order of the Phoenix, but the main reason they died was because of a prophecy hanging over my head saying that I would be the one to finally defeat Voldemort. If I had not been born ... well, I have entertained those thoughts for a long time, but they make no difference."

Harry lifted Dylan's chin so that they were looking at each other. "I don't know about anyone else, but I'm glad that you came into my life," he said quietly. "With your arrival, I found a boy whom I love as my brother, someone who I know I can trust with my life. You and Daphne are the reason I fight this war; both of you are the most important people in my life."

"My life changed in ways you can never imagine once I met you and Daphne. You may think that nothing would have changed if you had not been born, but I say different. I would not be the person I am today if you had not existed. You are an inspiration to me, not to mention a mirror to how I could have been. Even after all that you have faced, you still remain pure at heart like you were at the age of eleven when you had a look of shock on your face when I wished you happy birthday. I don't know if your father will ever accept you or love you as a son, Dylan, but know that I will _always_ consider you my little brother and I would love you to the end of time."

Dylan threw his arms around Harry's neck as he hugged him tightly, more tears flowing down his cheeks as he heard Harry's heartfelt speech. It was very, very rare for Harry to speak out like this, but Dylan cherished them whenever he heard it.

"Thank you, Harry," said Dylan softly. "I will always consider you my brother too. You're right. I don't need my father's acceptance. As long as I have you, everything will be fine in my life. I love you too."

Harry simply smiled as they sat there in silence, emotions running high in both of them.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The next few days were quite sombre at Hogwarts, so it was a relief when the Hogwarts Express took them to London. Not wanting to make him deal with the students any more than he had to, Harry had Portkeyed him and Dylan back to Potter Castle. Many parents too did not want their children travelling via the train so they were waiting outside the gates of Hogwarts to Apparate them back home. There was no telling what the Death Eaters might do to seize power.

"Home sweet home," muttered Dylan as he saw the familiar entrance hall at Potter Castle.

"It is so good to be back," Harry smiled as they walked up the stairs to their rooms. A relaxing shower later, Harry walked out of his room and entered the room next to his and saw Dylan already practising the Transfiguration exercises required for his Animagus transformation.

"How's it going?" asked Harry, taking a seat on the armchair in the large room.

"I managed to do the paws," said Dylan excitedly. "Both my hands and feet are paws with brown fur, and I have a distinct feeling that I am a canine of some kind."

"Canine? Oh, Daphne is going to be so pissed."

Dylan rolled his eyes. Daphne thought she had a pretty good idea what her Animagus form was going to be. It wasn't that difficult to figure out when she saw the striped orange and black coat. Her Patronus also gave her a distinct advantage in finding out what her form might be.

"I still don't know what kind of canine, though," said Dylan as he tried to transfigure more of his legs. "Maybe a dog, like Uncle Sirius?"

"You'll know once you fully transform," said Harry. "Knowing that you are a canine would most definitely help speed up the process. You are actually doing better than I expected. I think you would be done by April or May, so keep trying and don't give up. Now, let's work on the upper body transfiguration. This is more complex as the organs here are what keep you alive. The body of a human and that of a canine ..."

It took the rest of the day in training Dylan for the Animagus transformation. They had a quick dinner and retreated to their bedrooms for the night. After a conversation with their respective girlfriends, they went to bed.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Severus, have you confirmed that they are indeed staying at their castle tonight?" asked Voldemort, his red eyes narrowing at the Potions Master. "Only the two of them?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Severus blandly. "I was not able to verify if there were others in the castle, but that dunderhead thief Fletcher let slip that the two of them are staying there for the night but moving to Black Manor tomorrow."

"Good, very good," said Voldemort, smirking victoriously. "You are dismissed."

"What am I to tell Dumbledore, my Lord?" asked Snape after hesitating for a moment.

Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "You can't tell him something you don't know, Severus. Now leave!"

"Yes, my Lord, I apologise," said Snape as he backtracked, walking out of the room. He had a funny feeling that Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange would soon have company.

Voldemort moved to his private office in Riddle Manor and removed a small stone basin which seemed to be shimmering, emitting a silvery light. With a wave of his hand, he sliced a thin line on his palm, letting the drops of blood fall into the basin. His smirk widened as he saw the potion change colour.

Ever since Harry had escaped his clutches in the graveyard not far from his manor, he knew that he could exploit the blood connection he and the boy shared to kidnap Potter. After all, the same blood which flowed in Potter's veins was what sustained him as well. However, there was a small problem.

Intent was very powerful in magical rituals, and he realised that the way in which he had forcefully taken Harry's blood during his resurrection ritual would not give him access to the family magic. All magical families, new or old, tended to guard their blood using rituals; but these rituals were never foolproof. Blood magic was one of the biggest weapons a wizard could have over another. So many magical royal and noble families in the past had ended because their enemies used their blood against them.

The Potter family had been nearly been driven to extinction the same way when one of the sons used his blood to launch surprise attacks against his own family. Voldemort had prepared for this mission extensively, studying every detail he had managed to recover on the Potter Massacre. Studying Harry's blood made him realise that the Potter family had taken drastic measures to ensure their blood was never used against them again. That was the reason, Voldemort mused, why Dumbledore had never managed to find Harry all those years ago when the boy had disappeared.

Smart, the Potters may have been, but their magic was centuries old; in other words, outdated, and Harry Potter was not experienced, knowledgeable or old enough to strengthen the protections in his blood – the proof was the boy's blood running in the Dark Lord's veins.

Voldemort flicked his wand, disabling various protective enchantments as he carefully placed a weird looking silver instrument on his desk. This was one of his greatest inventions, and if he was not the Dark Lord, Voldemort was sure that the title of Grand Sorcerer would have been bestowed upon him for his work on blood magic. This instrument, a ward inhibitor, would allow him to send his Death Eaters into Potter Castle without triggering the castle's defences. The Dark Lord couldn't even describe the effort he had put into the invention, but it was worth it. Having the boy of the prophecy on his side would be invaluable to Voldemort. He poured the modified potion containing Harry's blood into the silver instrument. It immediately began puffing, but it would need to be very close to the wards for it to work properly. Potter Castle's wards might be impressive, but Lord Voldemort was better.

It was a shame that his best Death Eaters were abroad, recruiting more people for his cause. No matter, the infamous werewolf had not let him down yet.

"The curse-breaker will help you gain entry, Greyback," said Voldemort coldly as he entered his throne room where the werewolf and the curse-breaker were kneeling before him. "Malcolm is very talented, but he will be drained once he gets you inside so he will be Apparating back here. You are to get into the castle and capture both boys. Do _not_ kill them, understood? I want them whole and relatively unharmed. The team you are taking may be new recruits and werewolves, but I expect you to fulfil the mission to the letter. If you succeed in kidnapping Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange, you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams."

"Yes, my Lord," said Greyback, but he cursed his luck in not being able to feast on the two handsome young boys. He wondered if he could do so after the Dark Lord killed them. As long as he had tasty flesh, he didn't care.

In the entrance hall of Riddle Manor, Greyback grinned manically at the group of Death Eaters and werewolves.

"We'll be raiding Potter Castle tonight," said Greyback, licking his lips. "To victory!"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

On top of a large hill in the middle of Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire, twenty-odd kilometres from the Muggle city of Nottingham stood an expansive and regal looking castle amidst hundreds of acres of land covered in snow. It was three-thirty in the morning and everything was quiet. The lake was frozen but the magical moat around the castle churned, displaying that at least one of the extensive wards around the castle was active. Statues of various magical creatures that stood at various places in the grounds and the suits of armour inside the castle were all at rest. The massive blue flag bearing the Potter crest which was placed on top of the highest tower fluttered against the wind. The ancient castle really looked breathtaking in its slow covered form.

The paintings inside were snoozing, but suddenly went rigid as though they had been frozen. The house-elves all around the castle dropped like statues and began sleeping soundly. The corridors and rooms were eerily quiet. There was no movement – living or dead. Alfred Potter was currently not staying at home, having chosen to attend the annual ghosts' winter conference.

"Beautiful place, isn't it?" whispered Malcolm as he activated the enchantments which made the house-elves and portraits fall asleep.

The silver instrument which he held in his hand that contained Harry Potter's blood puffed as he breached a tiny opening in the wards. He waited for a moment, ensuring that it didn't trigger the second layer defences until he expanded the opening, neutralizing several protections placed by the Potter family. After he punctured the anti-Apparation ward which would allow for the Death Eaters to slip through undetected, he placed the instrument on the ground with charms around it so that it interfered with Harry Potter's connection with the wards surrounding the ancient structure.

"You can enter the castle," said Malcolm, holding back a sneer at the werewolf. "The trail I have cleared for you should lead you to the Apparition point. Once you're there, you'll have only one shot to Apparate through the stone fortress and immediately again into the castle, so make it count! I don't need to tell you what happens should you fail."

Greyback bared his yellow, pointed teeth at the curse-breaker, but nodded to his comrades. A group of sixteen wizards and werewolves made their way to the Apparition point and turned on the spot to slip through the fortress, and again to enter the castle. With a _crack_ , they found themselves in a cellar.

"Where are we?" breathed one of the Death Eaters.

"Probably in the dungeons," answered Greyback gruffly. "Spread out in teams of four. Look everywhere for the boys, but remember, don't harm them."

Just as they crossed the threshold, Harry's emerald green eyes snapped open in confusion.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I found one of the reviews to my story amusing, so I decided that I had to share it with you all -_**

 _"You are a complete retard as an author. Look up the word narcissism and look into a mirror . . . blah blah blah. . . To have such an inflated opinion of yourself as a fanfic author to think you are providing a public service and warning people is incredibly conceited on your part. Learn how to write a good fic first."_

 ** _My reply – (clears throat): Well, mario129, if you think I'm a retard, the button to close the window on your screen is right there – click on it, put a lollipop in your mouth and cry in a corner, watching cartoons. I wonder what made you think I'm a narcissist. I believe I have repeatedly said in various chapters in my stories that I'm an amateur, and that my stories are far from perfect. Your point of view might differ from mine, but hey! I guess that's a crime in your world! Officer, take me away!_**

 ** _Yes, the rape scene with Lockhart could have been avoided. I'm not a fan of angst or rape. I also said in my AN that such vile actions were present all over the world, and I hoped that particular chapter would make people realise that no one, no matter how powerful, male or female, is safe and hence be vigilant. I'm not saying anything which you can't read in newspapers or watch on news channels. It was a message. Read your history books – messages through literary means have been seen for thousands of years. This may not be a novel, but this site is meant for literary works, am I wrong? If you minuscule brain can't handle that, there's nothing I can do. Read something useful in the newspaper and you'll see what I'm talking about. Don't think you're so brave just because you're sitting behind an invisible computer screen with nothing to do. I'm the one sacrificing sleep after a tiring day to upload a new chapter to keep my readers happy, even if I am unwell. If you don't like it, fine. I don't mind negative, constructive criticism for any of my stories. I've grown as an author mainly due to good criticism, but you're just wasting time if you mindlessly bash me by leaving such a review. You're only making yourself look like a fool._**

 ** _On a brighter note, thanks for the reviews everyone!_**


	35. The attack on Potter Castle

**_Chapter 35_**

 ** _The Attack on Potter Castle_**

Harry lay there on the bed, his heart beating a mile a minute. What was that? He had felt a shift in the wards! Closing his eyes, he concentrated, but he could still feel a disturbance; it was like he was seeing through a thick ice shard, which should not be possible. He should have complete control. The frown on his face deepened.

"Tippy!" Harry called loudly as he got to his feet. There was no answer. "Sally! Toby! Dobby! Winky!"

None of them answered and Harry's heart skipped a beat. Quickly grabbing a pair of shorts that had been discarded on the floor several hours ago, he donned them on, summoned his wand to his hand, and rushed towards Dylan's bedroom.

Looking out of the window from the corridor, he realised that there was probably no one outside. The disturbance came from _inside_ the castle. But then again, it was difficult to judge because of the sheer size of the structure itself; the attackers could be anywhere but Harry was sure beyond a doubt that the castle was under attack. He had meticulously studied the protections employed at Potter Castle since the age of seven, having been trained religiously by his ancestor's ghost, and could walk the corridors and judge the wards blindfolded. Something was very wrong.

Opening the door, he darted towards the bed.

"Dylan, wake up," whispered Harry hurriedly, removing the thick blanket off his brother. Unfortunately, the resident of the room was not in a mood to get up.

"Oh, Tori," Dylan whispered in his sleep as he rubbed his erect penis against the soft mattress, a dopey grin on his face. He moaned in pleasure when a sticky, white fluid erupted from the tip of his cock and coated the bedsheets.

"Oh, great!" groaned Harry, rolling his eyes. "My brother is having a wet dream! Dylan!"

He sent a stinging hex to Dylan's arse, making the younger boy yelp as he sat upright in an instant, cum still leaking down his hard shaft. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes while massaging his sore bum, he murmured, "Harry? What are you doing here? Why did you wake me?"

Tossing Dylan a pair of underwear, the only thing he could find at the moment, Harry said, "We're under attack. Put those on and come with me. We need to get to my study, so move quickly!"

Now completely awake, Dylan quickly complied and grabbed his wand. The two brothers then quickly made their way out of the room, carefully walking towards Harry's study.

"Harry, the portraits are all frozen!" whispered Dylan.

"Yes, I know," said Harry, his voice cold, simmering with anger. He wondered for a moment if the wards were malfunctioning, but dismissed the thought immediately. He and Sirius had replaced the ward stones at Potter Castle and Black Manor just six months ago, so it wasn't possible for them to have failed this drastically. Whatever was going on was intentional. Someone was deliberately blocking his remote control of the wards so that he couldn't sense their presence.

"I sense something," whispered Harry, making them stop in the middle of the corridor. "Wand at the ready! Fire whatever curses come to your mind!"

"Aye," muttered Dylan.

They stood in the darkness, Harry having disabled the lighting charms in the corridor. They waited for an opening; even though he didn't have full access, Harry could still feel a distant echo, the castle's protective enchantments warning him of a presence nearby. Their enemies were close, very close.

The intruders were not prepared for the attack, but they did retaliate. Flashes of spellfire illuminated the corridor, but the fight was over before it truly began. The newly recruited Death Eaters were taken by surprise and were just not prepared for the brutal assaults launched against them, courtesy of Harry and Dylan.

"We've found them!" screamed one of the Death Eaters, but his voice was drowned when a dark severing charm decapitated him. The spellfire destroyed parts of the corridor, but all four attackers were dead.

"There are more of them," said Dylan, his voice shaking with fright. "How many are there?"

"Come on," said Harry, taking Dylan's hand in his as they moved, reaching the Lord's study several minutes later; there was a secret passageway that linked the family wing on the second floor to the Lord's study on the first. Activating the lighting charms, Harry briskly walked over to his desk. Dylan watched curiously as Harry sliced a line on his palm and dropped several drops of blood on the desk, making a silver round rune plate appear.

Pressing the runes with complete ease which he did not have when he was seven years old, muttering various spells and passwords at the same time, Harry connected to the wards. The intruders may be able to block his remote access, but they had no chance of blocking his link to the wards from the castle's command centre – his study. Harry pursed his lips when he sensed twelve more of the intruders in the castle. There were eight people nearby and the rest on the third floor.

Harry took a deep breath.

"INTRUDER ALERT! Seal the castle! _Piertotum Locomotor_! Security, place floors one through seven under lockdown! Armoured Knights to the first floor in the north wing and third floor in the east wing! Grounds Security, man the boundaries and ensure no one enters or escapes!"

Dylan watched in awe as the lighting charms turned off but turned on again, this time emitting a red glow from the ceiling, the alert charm showing that there were intruders in the castle. The windows all slammed shut and the armoured knights that he thought were for display actually came to life – no doubt heavily enchanted – gripping a lethal looking axe. He could not see it, but the various dragons, chimaeras, manticores, griffins and other stone statues came to life, patrolling the grounds as ordered. This was the reason Potter Castle and even Hogwarts was said to be safe. The offensive structures were just as deadly as the defensive wards.

"What do we do now?" asked Dylan.

Harry removed a large silver sword with egg-sized rubies on the handle from a secret compartment on the wall. "Now, we bloody kill them for daring to attack our home," snarled Harry furiously, his eyes slowly turning jet black like a drop of ink expanding on paper, green disappearing. "Stay inside this room, Dylan. I'll take care of those bastards outside."

"I'm not letting you face them alone!" he shouted heatedly. "Harry, please, let me help you!"

Harry looked at his brother for a moment but eventually nodded. He passed a goblin-made silver dagger to Dylan. "Keep this with you," he said, attaching it to the waistband of the boy's underwear with a sticking charm. "This sheath is made of basilisk hide and the dagger is infused with venom. I can tell that there are werewolves here. They're extremely agile even when not transformed. Stab them if you lose your wand."

Dylan nodded with determination as they walked out of the study. The corridor outside too was bathed in the dim red light from the ceiling, the intruder alert in place. No sound could be heard from anywhere because of the lockdown but Harry could sense the attackers nearby.

"Dylan, they have us cornered," whispered Harry in his ear. "Four on either side of the corridor, with us in the middle. Don't let them escape. These two armoured knights will help you but more will be on the way, okay? Do the best you can and stay safe. If you think you can't handle it, rush to my study. They shouldn't be able to penetrate its protection."

"Yes, Harry."

"Get ready … NOW!"

Flashes of light flew in all directions as the battle commenced. Harry was right, there were werewolves in the attacking party and the speed at which they dodged spells was incredible. Dylan used the quick and effective spell-chains he had developed recently as he fought with the best that he had. Severing curses, Reductor curses, blasting curses, organ-liquefying curses, blood-boiling curses, bone-breaking curses – anything which was lethal was being fired by the teenage boy, but the attacking party did not seem to want to kill them.

The armoured knights decapitated two of the Death Eaters with their massive axes and Dylan winced as a cutting curse impacted his bare chest, drawing blood. Nevertheless, he continued fighting. His attackers were on the back foot, doing their best to avoid the strong and precise spells Dylan was launching at them. Harry, on the other hand, was blasting everyone back with ferociousness, his agility and powerful spells giving him an advantage. One of the intruders, a werewolf probably, was extremely agile and actually missed several of Harry's targets. The three other Death Eaters were dead on the floor, but Harry was duelling this particular werewolf with all his might. He would have had a much easier time had they been outside. Unlike Dylan, indoor duelling was not his speciality.

Greyback snarled as he fired another curse at Potter. Why couldn't the brat just come silently? This was all that curse-breaker's fault! What part of disabling the alert charms did he not understand? He swiftly moved towards the other side of the corridor, still defending himself against Potter's rapid assaults. Making his way to Lestrange, he grabbed the boy by the hair after cursing him in the shins with the same spell Rodolphus had used on Harry months ago.

Dylan's wand sailed out of his hand as the boy screamed in agony, hands desperately attempting to cup his genitals. The Faux Castration Curse, designed specifically to cause agonising pain in order to distract the opponent by cursing the most sensitive part of their body, seemed to work wonders. Greyback had gotten to him.

"One more move, Potter, and Lestrange shall die by my hand," snarled Greyback, panting hard, as he pointed a sharp knife at Dylan's throat. "Drop your wand or I'll kill him!"

Harry now recognised who this was; he had seen him in Voldemort's memories and he knew Greyback was not kidding when he said he would kill Dylan. His eyes, still as black as the cosmos, focussed on the werewolf, calculating a strategy to defeat his enemy as he casually threw his wand away. To Harry's immense anger, he saw blood trickling down Dylan's throat.

"Now, you both will quietly come with me," said Greyback, grinning widely. "The Dark Lord wants you both unharmed but I'm sure that's only because he wants to kill you personally. I can't wait to feast on you both. Move it!"

Harry simply stared at Greyback.

"Call off your helpers, Potter, do you take me for a fool? Remember, any funny move on your part and I'll slit Lestrange's throat!"

"Don't do it," said Dylan struggling, but the knife cut deeper into his throat and he cried out in pain. It was not as bad as the pain emanating from his groin, but it still hurt.

An idea flashed to him, but it was very risky. Harry had explained the theory of infusing one's body with magic and he had been practising it for over a year. Dylan concentrated as he infused his skull with magic and tried to signal his brother with his eyes. Harry didn't respond as they walked, his gaze not leaving his brother for an instant. Suddenly, Dylan smashed the back of his head against Greyback's face, the infusion of magic making the werewolf howl in pain. Taking the opportunity, he grabbed the dagger and stabbed Greyback in the chest, just as Harry joined him, the Sword of Gryffindor gleaming under the lighting charms of the intruder alert, as he in one swift stroke beheaded Greyback, making his head roll over, the marble floor splattered with blood.

Harry sneered at the beheaded corpse of the notorious werewolf. "Your life was hanging by a thread the moment you stepped into my home, Greyback. This is for all those children whose lives you destroyed by turning them into werewolves. Oh, revenge is indeed sweet!" he said, savouring the moment, not caring about the fact that he was covered in blood, a glint in his eye.

"Come on!" he said, grabbing Dylan's arm as they quickly made their way to the study again.

Connecting to the wards directly, Harry smirked in satisfaction. The four Death Eaters on the third floor had been killed by the armoured knights.

"All sixteen of them are dead," he announced quietly.

He activated the lights in the study and made Dylan sit down. Harry's bare chest and stomach were covered in cuts. There was also a nasty gash on his left cheek. Dylan too had several cuts and bruises but the most prominent was the one on his throat, which was bleeding painfully. Harry waved his wand as he attempted to seal the cut on his brother's neck. The latter, however, was whimpering as he now had nothing to distract him from the pain.

"Does it hurt too much?" asked Harry worriedly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not good at healing spells. We'll have a Healer examine you thoroughly, don't worry."

"I'm fine," said Dylan through gritted teeth. "It'll pass, don't worry."

Harry shook his head. "Stand up," he instructed softly. When his brother complied, he kneeled down, pulled Dylan's boxer-briefs down to his ankles and tossed them aside. Dylan's breathing became ragged when he reclaimed his seat and immediately crossed his legs, trying to alleviate the pain by rubbing his thighs together. Nearly a minute of gentle coaxing later, he finally scooted his butt forward on the plush armchair and spread his legs wide. After observing the younger boy's genitals for several moments, Harry sighed, with a pained expression on his face, and stated, "Your penis is erect and your testicles are swollen. That means –"

"No, they're not! I'm fine, Harry, I swear!"

"Don't be childish, Dylan! You were hit by the Faux Castration Curse and denying it will not make the problem disappear! Your cock is hard and this is not due to arousal – you were in a fight for your life just minutes ago, for Merlin's sake! Your balls are definitely bigger than their usual size and unless we treat it, they'll continue to swell until they're twice as large as plums! The effects of the curse, if not contained now, will quickly spread to the surrounding area. The same thing happened to me after I was attacked in the graveyard, remember? I endured it for nearly two months. Do you want to suffer like that too?"

Dylan grimaced. He did remember and it was not something he wanted to experience himself. The pain was unbearable and he could already feel it spreading to his arse and thighs. Swallowing heavily, he murmured, "Fine. Let's get it over with."

Harry summoned a container that was filled with the salve that Madam Pomfrey had prescribed for him several months ago. Following his brother's instructions, Dylan scooped up the paste but the moment his fingers brushed against his ball sac, he whimpered and downright refused to touch them again. Unable to reason with him, Harry took over, not listening to his brother's pleas.

"Get on your hands and knees," he instructed. "That way, I can do it all at once."

"Harry, please," the younger boy begged.

" _Now_ , Dylan!"

Not having a choice, Dylan reluctantly moved to the carpeted floor and got in position. Breathing heavily, desperately trying to handle the searing pain shooting up his body, he waited. His face burned in obvious embarrassment.

Not wasting time, Harry kneeled down, facing his brother's side. Generously gathering the salve in both hands, he took a deep breath and began applying it on the affected area, silently and in a professional manner, slowly stroking the length of Dylan's erect penis with his left fist while using his right hand to caress the testicles. He personally knew how painful the effects of that particular curse were, and even though he knew his brother was currently mortified (as he himself had been when Rodolphus cursed him months ago), treatment was absolutely essential. With an expressionless face and pursed lips, his left hand still wrapped around Dylan's thick cock, he collected more of the salve with his right hand, and much to his brother's frustration, ran his fingers over the crack of the boy's buttocks, soothing the anus, before moving his attention to the testicles once more. Neutralising Dylan's tantrum every now and then, he continued the process for nearly twenty minutes.

"I hate you! I hate you!" the Lestrange scion shouted repeatedly. His spread legs were magically frozen, and a sticking charm on his hands and knees were holding him in place so that he couldn't kick his brother – again – who was trying to heal him before the effects of the curse could become chronic. With the salve currently being applied over his anus, Dylan felt like an infant having his diaper changed, and even though there was no part of him that his brother hadn't already seen before, it was still probably the most embarrassing moment of his life. And Harry just _had_ to remind him that it wouldn't be this bad if he simply chose to cooperate. He wondered why that blasted spell wasn't classified as an Unforgivable. It was every witch or wizard's nightmare, with no effective wand-based counter-curse. Harry could preach all he wanted, but at this moment, Dylan _hated_ the Dark Arts.

"You don't mind the pain that accompanies nearly being slit in the throat but you can't handle me healing you? Now I see why healers get angry when patients refuse to cooperate." Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Don't blame me for this; after you kicked me for the fifth time, I wasn't going to take any chances. If you want to behave like a child, then that's how I'll treat you. Really, Dylan, I feel like a father trying to force his wayward, injured son to take his medicine!"

" _Humph_! You just voiced my thoughts. Why don't you go all out and de-age me into a three-month-old toddler? At least that way, I wouldn't have to die of embarrassment!"

"I'd repeat the words _you_ , brother dear, said to me several months ago, when I was literally in the same situation as you are right now, but I doubt you'd care. Did I say anything when you and Daphne had to apply this on my body five times a day for weeks on end?"

Dylan made a noise of annoyance. "Actually, you did –"

"Fine, I did! But you know as well as I do that the pain is chronic and that there is no other method of healing you. It's only me and not a random stranger, so what's your problem?" Breathing heavily through his nose, he continued, "Listen, I've healed the cuts on your body and applied the salve wherever required, but we're still having you examined by a healer. No excuses."

"Like I have a choice in the matter, _Dad_ ," he shot back sarcastically. "I hope you can live with the fact that your only son hates you. Daphne is definitely my favourite parent, no comparison!"

Harry snorted, unable to hide a tired smile as he cancelled the partial Body-Bind Curse. He helped his brother lie down on his back and pressed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead. "You'll get better soon, I promise. Stay here while I contact the D.M.L.E. We need to find out what's affecting my remote link to the wards."

Dylan sighed as he watched his brother activate the Floo network. What a way to start the holidays.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

That morning, Potter Castle was swarming with Aurors, searching the grounds for other intruders and removing the dead bodies of the attackers from inside the castle. In the formal drawing room, Sirius Black was standing in the corner, his eyes bloodshot.

"How?" he asked again for what he felt like a millionth time.

"This instrument was used to get past the wards," said Harry grimly as he pointed at the broken silver instrument on the coffee table. "It had my blood powering it. The Death Eaters managed to freeze all the portraits, put the house-elves in an enchanted sleep, and then Apparated into the castle. I'm pretty sure they Apparated because there is no other way they could have bypassed the stone fortress or the moat around the castle. What that instrument is, I have no idea."

"They managed to use my blood against me to block my remote access to the wards. I could only access them from the control centre. We engaged the enemy and fought for a while, but Greyback was too fast. He managed to hold Dylan hostage; he nearly slit Dylan's throat in the process. Dylan managed to knock Greyback away from him and stabbed him in the chest with a dagger imbibed with basilisk venom. I then went forward and beheaded him. All sixteen of them were dead by the time we were done."

"Pack your bags, you'll be staying with us for the rest of the holidays," ordered Sirius. "I don't know what I was thinking, letting you boys stay alone last night. I must be losing my mind."

Harry and Dylan looked at each other and nodded slowly. They had been expecting this.

Sirius picked up the broken pieces of the silver instrument and looked at it critically. An hour later, he walked down a long corridor in the lowest level of the Ministry of Magic building. He entered the password on the rune plate outside the black door and once he was cleared, he placed his hand on the golden handle and swung the door open.

"I have something for you."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _POTTER CASTLE ATTACKED!_

 _Sixteen Death Eaters and Werewolves attacked_ _Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange_

 _Siege foiled! All attackers killed by the two teenagers!_

 _FENRIR GREYBACK KILLED!_

 _Fenrir Greyback, notorious werewolf and international criminal stabbed in the chest by Dylan Lestrange and beheaded by Harry Potter!_

 _Lord Potter and Minister Black tight-lipped about the attack!_

 _Speculation rises about the secret defences of the ancestral home_ _of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter_

 _KIDNAPPING ATTEMPT OR SOMETHING MORE?_

 _Lady Amelia Black assures everyone that Lord Potter_ _and Heir Lestrange are safe and sound_

Lord Voldemort threw the newspaper down in disgust. It hadn't worked! Why hadn't it worked? The ward inhibitor should have ensured that Harry was blind to the attack but apparently the boy was not as oblivious to the knowledge of wards like he had assumed. That had been a mistake.

He rolled his eyes at the drooling form of Peter Pettigrew. He had taken his anger out on the rat and Wormtail was so badly tortured that he was now permanently insane. He didn't care; it's not like the stupid rat was useful for anything.

A familiar jet of green light impacted Pettigrew, killing him instantly. Nagini slithered over for a feast.

"Not to worry, Rabastan. We will get them back. Once Harry and Dylan are here, they will not leave until they join us."

"Are you sure they will join us, my Lord?" asked Rabastan hesitantly.

Voldemort laughed coldly. "They will if they know what's good for them. They are too valuable for us to give up this soon. But first, bring Draco Malfoy before me. I have a new plan in place and the boy is testing my patience. I need him to succeed quickly should I put my plan in motion. Having to watch his parents get tortured should be enough motivation for the boy."

"Yes, my Lord," said Rabastan as he exited the throne room.

The Dark Lord was deep in thought. Yes, he would try to bring Harry to his side one last time. Normally, he would not have cared at all. The boy who had caused his downfall all those years ago should have been his enemy that he would have hated with every thought, but Harry wasn't like that. The boy was not what Lord Voldemort had expected.

Harry was so similar to how he himself had been at that age; it was surreal.

 _Similar, yet so different._

Voldemort knew that he was obsessed with the boy. True, he was immortal and did not need an heir because he would never die, but Harry was much more than that. Such power and knowledge should not be wasted. The boy also had a dark aura about him. Powerful, dangerous, intoxicating; only someone who had ritually increased his magical sensitivity would know about it.

Harry Potter would make an outstanding Death Eater, and his natural power would make the younger generation flock to him, and thus, to the Dark Lord. There were also other benefits. Harry was an international celebrity and his fame had spread throughout the international magical world after that attack in 1991. If the Boy-Who-Lived joined him, he, Lord Voldemort would be unstoppable. He would be able to move his campaign abroad, conquering territories one by one, leaving his personal assassin to maintain order.

There was something else which was nagging him. Harry had said that he did not hate him, but why so? He had killed the boy's parents, so why should the boy feel any sort of affection towards him? But if he did feel some sort of affection, why did he not accept the offer when he, Lord Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Lord in recent times, had offered to accept the boy as his son and heir? He knew that boy had been conflicted when he had mentioned it. He would need to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Bellatrix's eyes were burning with fury as she saw the large picture of Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange on the front page of the newspaper.

 _Dylan Lestrange ..._ the constant reminder of her failure as Lady Lestrange and a wife was staring back at her, the grey eyes of the boy taunting her. Yet another reminder that she could not bear children and that a filthy Mudblood had given birth to the heir of House Lestrange.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Daphne hugged her fiancé tightly, tears flowing down her face. Her slim form was trembling as Harry hugged her back as he slowly stroked her hair.

"Daph, we're fine," said Harry softly. "We managed to overpower them."

"And what if you hadn't?" she whispered. "You and Dylan were nearly killed!"

"Actually, they were there to kidnap us, not kill."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Daphne was still shivering when he pulled her in for a chaste kiss.

"Just promise me that you'll be more careful next time, please."

Harry smiled and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "I promise," he replied, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Daphne buried her face in his chest, listening to his heartbeat as she reassured herself that he was indeed alive. It had been a close call. If Harry had not woken up when he felt that first disturbance, he wouldn't be here at all. Both of them refused to let go of each other, securely wrapped in each other's arms.

Her blue eyes were tinted white, glowing with barely suppressed rage. Daphne Greengrass was furious at what had transpired and her inner fire was burning like an inferno.

One day, she would deliver justice to those Death Eater bastards that had nearly killed Harry and Dylan. Voldemort and his minions were responsible for the sorrow of countless witches and wizards. Even if she had to train night and day in preparation, she would not rest until they were destroyed. Daphne vowed in the name of Mother Magic that the Death Eaters would learn the true meaning of pain before they were killed.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Harry, Dumbledore wants to talk to you, he says it's urgent," Sirius called out as he entered Rigel's room at Black Manor.

"What does he want now?" Harry snapped irritably as he got up from the bed, his youngest brother nested in his arms, whose hair was dark blue and eyes his favourite shade of green.

"Maybe he'll continue with your lessons," Sirius smirked. "The attack must have given him an incentive to speed up his plans."

"Why doesn't he just say it outright and come clean about the Horcruxes?" asked Dylan, frowning. "It would be much easier for him to deal with, right?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I never expected him to do that. Dumbledore likes to keep his options open and he'll seek the best possible method of achieving his goals. He may be one hundred and fifty years old, but his mind is sharp as ever. I'm curious as to why he is dragging it on considering that his death is imminent, but we'll know sooner or later. Come on Dylan, let's go."

"Hawwy! Dylee!" Rigel cried. "No go! I wanna play!"

Harry smiled as he kissed the two-year-old boy on the forehead. "We'll be back in just a few hours, okay Rigel?" he said softly. "Now, you be good for Mum, alright? If you are, I'll show you the birdie eagle thing again."

"Yay!" Rigel cheered happily and all of them chuckled. Several minutes later, they walked out of the front gates of the manor. Dylan took Harry's arm as the latter turned on the spot and Disapparated silently.

"I still don't get how you can do it so silently," the younger teenager said as he adjusted to their new setting. They were back at Grimmauld Place, London. Number 12 was visible to them because they already knew the secret and they carefully walked up the front steps. Sirius tapped the handle with his wand and the front door opened. The house looked much cleaner now, and Harry and Dylan had to blink their eyes in shock at seeing that.

"You're surprised that everything is clean, huh?" asked Sirius wryly. "I was too. Kreacher apparently decided that any house belonging to the Blacks must be clean. Also, after the destruction of the locket, he got a rejuvenated sense of momentum. He's still the same and hates me and everyone here, but at least it's not as bad as it had been."

"The Weasleys are staying here then?" asked Harry softly as they moved towards the kitchen. Dylan stiffened immediately at hearing that.

"Yes," Sirius replied sadly. "They've taken it very hard, all of them. Molly is inconsolable and didn't stop crying for days. Bill is the new head of the family and he seems to be keeping things stable. I told them that they were welcome to stay at this house for as long as they liked ... well, at least until they could deal with the loss. I don't understand why the Death Eaters chose to attack at that time. It's like they _knew_ that the Order members would be on patrol in the alley ..."

"What do you mean?" demanded Harry as he stopped them, tapping his locket to activate a stronger privacy charm.

"Well, from the Pensieve memories I have watched of the attack," said Sirius slowly, "I could make out that Rabastan knew they would meet resistance. While the others were busy blowing up the buildings, he was keeping an eye out for someone. That's when Arthur and Emmeline chose to attack."

"Snape," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Dumbledore would never listen to anyone when they tell that Snape is not working against Voldemort. He must have provided that information to Voldemort and Rabastan. Damn, it's like the first war all over again. Will Dumbledore ever learn from his mistakes?"

Sirius balled his hand into a fist angrily. Everyone in the Order, with Mad-Eye Moody being the most vocal of them, had protested against Snape's membership saying that they shouldn't trust him and yet Dumbledore would never hear a word against him! Why? With the state of the Wizengamot, he couldn't even be assured of a trial if he arrested Snape. Dumbledore and Voldemort pulling the strings would make it futile.

Something had to be done about Snape.

They entered the kitchen and saw everyone having dinner. The mood was dark and gloomy and Mrs Weasley was still sniffing in the corner as she prepared dinner. When the three of them entered, there was complete silence. Of course, there was no Dumbledore yet, so they had to wait. Fred and George got up to greet their friends, just as Harry and Dylan walked over to give them a hug. The shock was still too great as the twins began shaking, their sobs silent.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," whispered Dylan. "If there is anything I can do, please let me know."

George smiled slightly and shook his head. Suddenly, they heard the crash of falling utensils as someone shouted, "How can you let him in here?"

They all turned and saw Ron Weasley standing opposite to them, his face red with anger. "You guys are actually greeting him?" he yelled. " _Him_! The son of Rabastan Lestrange! The same Rabastan Lestrange who murdered Dad! And you're actually acting as though you're friends with him?"

"Ron, go to your room," said Bill quietly.

"No!" shouted Ron angrily. "I can't believe you would consort with the enemy! He is –"

"What am I?" asked Dylan quietly, holding a hand up to silence his brother and guardian. "What am I, Weasley?"

"A traitor! A murderer! The destroyer of families!" screamed Ron, furious tears streaming down his face.

"Ron, that's enough," said Bill firmly when he saw Sirius getting very upset and angry. "Think about what you're saying! Go to your room, _now_!"

"A traitor? A murderer? I destroy families?" asked Dylan, smiling grimly. "I'll accept all those accusations levelled against me if you can answer a few questions. Who did I betray to turn traitor?"

There were other members of the Order who had rushed into the kitchen now when they heard people shouting. Some were openly scowling at Dylan, but others were giving him wary looks.

"You betrayed us! How else would Dad have been killed?"

"I was at Hogwarts when the attack took place. I'm not a member of the Order of the Phoenix for me to even know that your father was on patrol in Diagon Alley, so how would I know that the Death Eaters were going to attack him? If that's your only theory of why I'm a traitor, then I'll humbly submit to you that I'm not. Next question, you called me a murderer. Have you ever seen me or even heard a rumour about me killing someone? Someone innocent, I mean. I have killed, yes, very recently in fact, but it was in self-defence when Death Eaters attacked our home. So, have I killed anyone innocent, Weasley?"

When Ron opened his mouth, he stopped, blinking in confusion and anger.

"I was not the one who murdered your father, Weasley," said Dylan, his grey eyes glowing eerily. The floor beneath him cracked under his rage. "As for destroying your family, would you still accuse me of that if I had not been carrying the name of Lestrange? What if I had gone by my mother's name instead? Would you and everyone else here and at Hogwarts still have suspected me? You all look at me as though _I'm_ the one who betrayed you, but did it ever occur to you that I might be a victim of the deeds of Rabastan Lestrange as well?"

"Have you forgotten that my mother was raped by my father and I was born as a result? My mother died just an hour after giving birth to me. I've never had a family, Weasley, unlike you who is surrounded by people who love you. My mother only named me a Lestrange out of spite, to make my father realise that he had sired a bastard child, a half-blood at that. What do you think my father, uncle or aunt would do if I ever run into them? Do you think there would be hugs and tears that is expected of a family reunion?"

"I would be killed in an instant for daring to take the Lestrange name," he said frostily, his voice rising steadily as his anger got the best of him. "The family that prides themselves in being purebloods for more than a thousand years now has an heir apparent who is a half-blood and a bastard to boot. How did I destroy your family, Weasley? How am I _in any way_ responsible for what happened to your father? Why does _everyone_ blame me for my father's actions? Let me repeat myself – I have never met him! I was born and grew up in a Muggle orphanage. It was only on my eleventh birthday that I even knew who my parents were. Not once have I contacted him or have even wanted to contact him. Do you want to know why?"

Dylan walked over to Harry and Sirius and grabbed their arms.

"Because _this_ is my true family! These people knew whose son I was and still took me into their home with no expectations. For all they knew I could have been a damaged, wayward child, but they _still_ took me in. They provided a roof over my head, food to eat and education at the most prestigious school in Magical Britain. They weren't obligated to do any of that and could have easily sent me back to the orphanage, but they didn't."

"Harry, _Harry_ , someone who is as emotionally detached as Harry Potter accepted me as his brother and showered me with love and affection. Uncle Sirius and Aunt Amelia did not have to treat me and look after me like their own son, but they did. _They're_ my family. I'm sorry that you have lost your father, Weasley, but at least you had a chance to know him. I never knew my parents. One is dead and the other would kill me the second I face him. Both of them never wanted me. At least your father loved you, your mother and siblings love you. I can understand your grief, but I won't be able to stand any more accusations against me. I hope you realise that I am human too and I also have a limit beyond which I snap. _Don't push me_."

There was pin-drop silence in the kitchen as everyone looked at their feet, feeling a twinge of guilt. Sirius squeezed Dylan's shoulder comfortingly but the expression on his face showed that he was very angry and upset. They heard someone clear their throat and turned to find Dumbledore at the door.

"No one is accusing you, my boy," said Dumbledore quietly. "I hope you can forgive young Ronald for his words. He is still quite grief-stricken over what happened."

"I understand, Professor," Dylan replied, though Harry could see a blazing inferno in his grey eyes; clearly, he was furious. Magic was rolling off his body and his aura flared as Dylan struggled to regain control of his emotions. "It is only for that reason that I'm still calm and haven't drawn my wand. Uncle Sirius, may I be excused?"

"Of course Dylan," Sirius said softly as he watched the boy leave the kitchen.

Mentally he was kicking himself for not expecting such a reaction from the others. Knowing that the boy needed comfort when his emotions this volatile, he excused himself too. Both of them soon exited the house and Apparated back to Black Manor. Dylan did not want to stay at Headquarters for another minute and Sirius was very much willing to take him back home.

"Harry, I think it is time we adjourned to our meeting," said Dumbledore, leading him out of the kitchen.

Harry pursed his lips and schooled his expression to an impassive mask as always. He sent a fleeting look at Ron Weasley – who was looking anywhere but at him – and followed the headmaster out. He could understand Weasley's grief, but as Dylan said, there was only so much the boy could handle before he blew up. And Harry wouldn't have blamed his little brother in the slightest if he had.

Harry and Dumbledore entered the drawing room and closed the door. The headmaster flicked his wand and extracted the Pensieve which he had brought with him as he smiled at the teen.

"I'm happy that you and young Dylan are safe, my boy," said Dumbledore, though he looked quite tired. "It is for this reason that I kept urging you to stay with Petunia, but you never listened." With a sigh, he continued, "But what's done is done. Before we begin, I was hoping to take a look at that device which Voldemort used to crack an opening in the wards. Could you please show it to me?"

"I can't give it to you, sir. It's destroyed. Voldemort must have done it remotely. After all, if he could use my blood to block my control of the wards around Potter Castle, I could do the same to counter his hold of any protective enchantments placed around his headquarters."

"I see," Dumbledore muttered, looking at the boy with piercing blue eyes. "I hope you aren't lying, Harry, because that device is very dangerous in the wrong hands."

"I don't lie," said Harry sharply.

Dumbledore observed him critically but let the subject drop. "So Harry, I assume you remember the tale of Tom Riddle from where we left off the last time?"

"Yes sir. You went to the orphanage to offer him a place as a student at Hogwarts."

He listened attentively as Dumbledore continued to talk about Tom Riddle's days at Hogwarts, but Harry had known about all this. He knew that Tom had been devastated and angry when he found out that his father was not a wizard and that his mother, the same mother who had died rather than take care of him was actually a witch. Harry was sure that this anger, coupled with his childhood experiences in Muggle London during the Second World War, having to brave the Blitz, was what made him research Horcruxes.

He might admire the young Tom Riddle for many things, but some of Tom's choices really disgusted Harry, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets for one, and also the creation of his Horcruxes. That was when the intelligent young man that was Tom Riddle had transformed into the power-hungry, insane Lord Voldemort who was hell-bent on destroying the world for what had been denied to him. Harry doubted Voldemort himself recognised the changes he underwent. There was hardly anything left of Tom Riddle in Voldemort today. Tom was never a saint, but then again, neither was Harry.

Harry was quite impressed with the Legilimency skills Dumbledore needed to uncover that memory from the mind of Morfin Gaunt and from the mind of that old house-elf. He remembered both those memories too. The first was the time when Tom had killed his father and grandparents. The second was when he had killed the old woman, Hepzibah Smith, and had stolen Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's locket. Finally, Harry blinked in surprise when Dumbledore revealed a memory of Horace Slughorn that not only mentioned the word 'Horcrux' but also revealed that Riddle was intrigued by the concept of seven Horcruxes. It was a memory that Harry remembered but never considered that important. But to someone like Dumbledore, who didn't have access to the location of each Horcrux, the information could very well be monumental.

"He wanted to create seven Horcruxes," said Harry quietly as they emerged from the Pensieve.

"Yes," said Dumbledore as he sat down on the sofa tiredly. "This is an extremely important memory, Harry; perhaps the most important memory I have ever collected. It shows how far we have come and what more is to be done to defeat Lord Voldemort. You may have destroyed the diary and I, the ring, but that still leaves four more Horcruxes of a seven-part soul. Thankfully, we've already identified what two of those Horcruxes could be – Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket, which Tom Riddle stole from Hepzibah Smith. Finding out where Voldemort has hidden them will be a challenge."

"Understood," said Harry stiffly.

"Also, I must ask you again to not divulge this information to anyone," said Dumbledore firmly. "Not even to your godfather, Harry, because I hope you understand the magnitude of what I have just shown you. If Voldemort gets wind of the fact that we're threatening his Horcruxes, the devices that secure his immortality, the consequences would be too dire for me to even contemplate."

Harry paused for a few seconds and gave another respectful nod. Dumbledore seemed satisfied. Too bad Albus Dumbledore did not know that Sirius already knew about the Horcruxes.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I wonder what information Snape revealed to Voldemort in canon. What was so vital that made Voldemort trust him so? Did he betray any members of the Order? Or was Emmeline Vance killed without Snape's interference? Her death did seem fishy to me in Book 6, which was why I incorporated it here. Thanks for the wonderful reviews, everyone!_**


	36. The Babbling Banshee

**_Chapter 36_**

 ** _The Babbling Banshee_**

The second term at Hogwarts took off on a sombre and panicking note after the winter holidays. There had been no more attacks but everyone had heard and read about the attack on Potter Castle and the attempted kidnapping of Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange.

"We won't be working in pairs today," said Harry, addressing the group which had dubbed themselves the Defence Association. "The spells I will be teaching you today will be dangerous and deadly, but they are something which you must know so that you can counter them. I don't expect you to learn the spells, but watching me cast them would ensure that you know how effective they are – and how effective _you_ need to be in case someone uses them against you."

"What are we learning?" asked a seventh year Ravenclaw curiously.

"Spells which are not taught at Hogwarts. The Fire whip, the Bone-Breaking curse, the Blood-Boiling curse, the Organ-Liquefying curse to name a few, and how you can defend against them."

Hermione sucked in a breath. "But those spells are dark!" she cried shrilly. "You can't teach us the Dark Arts!"

Harry stood silently as he carefully tied his hair in a short ponytail. Taking a deep breath he said, "I'm not teaching you the Dark Arts, Granger. Those words mean nothing to me. There is something I want all of you to understand. Magic does not come in forms of light or dark. These brands are what witches and wizards give to magic which they don't feel is right for them."

"Magic is always in shades of grey. The balance must always be maintained because too much of either light or dark will have unhealthy consequences. Voldemort and Bellatrix are perfect examples of what could happen if someone uses too much 'dark' magic as you call it. This generation, filled with weak and close-minded witches and wizards, is what happens if there is too much 'light' magic. You can't learn one without learning the other. It would only be a cause for destruction."

"How will you fight an opponent who fires spells you can't even recognise? How will you treat a wounded patient if you can't even identify the cause? You'll be surprised just how much 'dark' magic is taught in Healing and Auror Academies. This is because without knowing the Dark Arts, you can't effectively defend yourselves against it. Magic is varied, with different forms, and is quite unpredictable. Without understanding both light and dark magic, you cannot strive for balance. And without balance, there would be no order, only chaos – like the war that is currently plaguing our country."

 _'Because that's what it truly is – a war between the Light Lord and the Dark Lord – with innocent people caught in the middle. When two elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers most. My mother's research was right. Without balance in magic, there would only be chaos. It is time for you all to open your eyes and stop seeing everything in black and white. If I was able to overcome my apparent blindness, so can you.'_

"Just because all these curses and rituals have been misused by different people over time does not make them evil," said Harry clearly, enjoying the group's rapt attention. "Parseltongue is a perfect example. The language is feared in Europe and branded dark because of people like Herpo the Foul and Voldemort. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth and we considered him evil for a thousand years and how did that turn out? The language itself is very ancient and it has been used for a variety of purposes, the good and the bad. Healing magic using Parseltongue has saved so many lives over several thousand years. Protective enchantments created using Parselmagic are stronger than the conventional wards we have. Hogwarts itself has wards made using Parselmagic and yet we hate the fundamental thing which keeps us safe. What you might consider evil might actually be used for an act of good, and even if that happens, because of the stigma that is light and dark, it is not accepted. Again, magic in its purest form is just that, _magic_!"

Many people were stunned when Harry levitated a small stone and banished it towards a dummy with such force that it blasted right through the dummy human, creating a small hole in the chest like a Muggle bullet.

"That was a banishing charm, considered to be a very simple charm taught to fourth-year students," said Harry quietly. "And yet, the same charm, which according to you all can be classified as light, just killed that dummy human. What about this?"

Harry levitated the dummy to the ceiling. "If I were to drop this dummy to the ground, do you think it would stay intact? If it were a real person, do you think he or she would survive? I'm using a simple levitation charm which is taught to first-year students. This is the epitome of light magic and yet it can so easily be used to kill someone."

Carefully placing the dummy back on the ground, Harry turned to face them. "It is all about _intent_ which distinguishes magic from light or dark, nothing more. It is all in shades of grey and it is _your choices_ which define the magic you perform, not the spells you cast. I won't be asking any of you to perform the spells, but I will be teaching you the theory and demonstrating it for you but most importantly, I will teach you how to defend yourselves against them. Know that my brother and I would not be alive today had we not known these spells when our home was attacked. Let go of the blind superstition and see the true beauty of magic and not what people have classified it based on ignorance and fear. Such classification might have been necessary at that time, but as years rolled on, it was never reversed. Watch closely."

The next several hours were spent in one-quarter of the school observing Harry intently as he explained the concept behind several different spells which were considered the Dark Arts and how to cast and defend against them. The curses were deadly, but Harry explained their origin and how many of them had been used for good until they were misused by wizards wanting to seek power.

"That's all for today everyone," said Harry loudly. "We'll be meeting in two days and we'll start on the Patronus Charm. I'm happy with the amount of improvement displayed by everyone in this chamber and I have no doubt you all would be able to cast the charm in due time."

"Wait, isn't the Patronus Charm supposed to be very advanced?" asked a third-year boy timidly. "Can we all do it?"

A ghost of a smile formed its way to Harry's lips.

"Dylan."

Dylan nodded and flicked his wand and said, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

People gasped as the large silvery golden eagle burst from the tip of Dylan's wand and glided across the chamber as people watched in awe.

"He learnt it last summer," said Harry to everyone. "Daphne and I learnt the Patronus Charm when we were thirteen as well. I'm not saying that it wouldn't be hard because it took me some time to master it too but I'm willing to help you _if_ you are willing to put in the right amount of effort into it. Alright, I'll see you all in two days! Class dismissed!"

Half an hour later, the Chamber of Secrets was empty and Harry ensured that every last one of the students had returned to their dormitories. Once done, Harry, Daphne and Dylan returned to their suite, chatting idly about the class.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Hermione Granger was walking towards the staff room, a day after the class on the Dark Arts in the Chamber of Secrets. She couldn't believe that Harry Potter was actually teaching them the _Dark Arts_! While she had to admit the spells he had taught them until now were educational, yesterday's class was over the top! Hermione was not an unintelligent girl. She knew that even with several books on Defence, she wouldn't have come close to learning as much about the subject without an effective teacher, which, she would wholeheartedly admit, Harry Potter was. While she still did not like keeping Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts staff in the dark, she could not pass up an opportunity of learning more magic. Of course, that was until yesterday's lesson. It was _horrifying_! She couldn't in good conscience let this slide. No matter what Potter may claim, showing such spells and teaching them was a _terrible_ idea. Didn't Potter understand that someone might use such spells to cause more damage? Either way, she would have to fix this mess before it got out of hand. She was a prefect, damn it, and it was time to uphold the honour the badge demanded.

"Miss Granger, what can I do for you?" asked Professor McGonagall as Hermione entered the staff room. She noticed that there were several other teachers as well. Good!

"Professor, I'm here to tell you something that none of the staff is aware of," she said guiltily. "I apologise for not coming to you sooner, but it hadn't been a problem until now."

McGonagall frowned slightly. "Whatever problem you have, I'm sure we can solve it. What is it, Miss Granger?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry Potter has been teaching me and the rest of the school the Dark Arts in the Chamber of Secrets."

The teachers' jaws dropped in shock as they looked at each other, eyes wide. "W-What?" squeaked out Professor Flitwick, not able to form a coherent thought.

"Can you please repeat that Miss Granger?" asked Professor McGonagall, looking at the girl, her face suddenly pale.

"Harry Potter has been teaching me and the rest of the school the Dark Arts in the Chamber of Secrets, Professor. Nearly one-quarter of the school is involved in this, I'm afraid, and they don't realise the consequences of their actions. I thought it would be educational when I decided to join, but now ..."

"Miss Granger – I – I," spluttered Professor McGonagall lost for words. " _Why_ _,_ in the name of Lord Godric, would you and the rest of the students want to attend a practical sexual education class with Professor Snape in the dungeons?" she asked aghast. She couldn't believe that this was happening right under her nose! She knew it wasn't a prank; Hermione Granger wasn't such a girl who would lie to her. So if the young Gryffindor prefect was troubled enough to confess something like this, it must be the truth.

"What?" squeaked Hermione in shock. "No! I said that Harry Potter has been teaching me and the rest of the school the Dark Arts in the Chamber of Secrets."

"Minerva, I think we should have Poppy check the students for mind-altering potions," said Professor Vector sharply. "If Severus is sexually assaulting the students, then this is _bad_!"

Hermione was in shock as the teachers scrambled out of the staffroom, with McGonagall taking her to Madam Pomfrey. _What had just happened?_

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"This is ridiculous!" shouted Snape in fury, his face red in anger with spittle flying from his mouth. "I would never do such a thing!"

"We have a student who confessed to it, Severus," said Professor McGonagall angrily. "After the incident with Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory and the Weasley twins, the Board of Governors had agreed to take strict actions to ensure that such an incident never happens again! One-quarter of the school, Severus, _one-quarter of the school_! I can't believe you would do this! And I can't believe we were all such blind fools for this long!"

"I assure you, Minerva, that Severus has my complete trust," said Dumbledore tiredly. He had just come back after another fruitless search for Voldemort's Horcruxes and the journey had drained him badly. The curse was turning him weak. "If I could talk to the student who came forward –"

"No," said McGonagall firmly, fire dancing in her blue eyes. "I will not let their identity be known so that they could be coerced into remaining silent. I have still not forgiven myself for what happened to Potter, the Weasley twins and Diggory and _I_ _will not let this go_! I have already contacted the Board of Governors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They should be on their way."

Snape's eyes widened as the door opened, revealing several angry witches and wizards. What the hell was going on here?

The Minister of Magic entered the room, his grey eyes hard as steel.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Daphne, you are certainly the most amazing girl I have ever met," muttered Harry, as they saw Severus Snape walking out of the castle with his belongings in tow. "You turned something which was a deterrent to keep the secret of the Defence Association from getting out and used it to successfully get Snape sacked instead. Voldemort's best spy isn't at Hogwarts anymore. Brava, my love."

"I swear, I didn't intend for this to happen," said Daphne, trying to hide her smile. "It was actually supposed to be funny while also being effective. After the incident with the Goblet of Fire, I researched a lot about Confundus and compulsion charms and how to activate them. I raided my family library and the Restricted Section here at Hogwarts and used those advanced charms on the book containing the names of the members of the D.A. so that anyone wanting to rat us out would never be able to do it. It was a varied form of a very simple secrecy contract I tricked them into signing. Instead of telling the truth, they would repeat the words I had conditioned into them."

"That's really impressive magic, sis," said Astoria, looking impressed.

"That's high praise coming from you," Daphne replied with an amused twinkle in her eye. "I aim to please."

"Too bad he wasn't arrested," Dylan muttered, sounding annoyed.

Harry glared at the front doors from where Snape had disappeared. That was true because once the Board of Governors led by the Minister of Magic had begun to investigate the claims made by one Hermione Granger, they realised that there was a charm in place to make her talk. They couldn't find the counter to the charm placed on her to make her reveal what exactly she wanted to say. Even writing it wouldn't help.

The combination of spells she had used could be undone of course, but it would require the source from where the enchantment originated – namely, the diary which held all the names. Harry was sure that the D.M.L.E. could have undone the charm had they put their mind to it but had come to the conclusion that his adoptive parents wanted to get rid of Snape with the opportunity provided, so the effort to undo the charm was quickly forgotten.

Once the investigators had realised Hermione's claim may not be the truth, Snape could not be arrested, however, the Board was not willing to take any chances. Voldemort was bad enough and after the Lockhart incident, they didn't need any more incentive to take action. Sirius may or may not have persuaded the other members of the Board to see reason. They finally had a solid reason to kick Snape out of Hogwarts; something which they did not have all these years, despite numerous complaints.

Sirius gave them all a passionate speech about how Snape's teaching was abysmal and how it had led to the crippling of the Auror force and the number of Healers and Potions Masters in Britain. He also showed them the statistics of the number of students who had not taken up Potions because of him and his harassment of several others. The fact that he was a Death Eater was not something they could ignore. Many students complained about the Defence program and how they weren't learning anything from Snape and how they were not prepared for the real world, especially during a time of war.

Not everything had gone according to plan, however. Sirius had wanted to lock Snape in Azkaban but Dumbledore had meddled. The aged headmaster may not have been able to save Snape's job, but he had managed to counter every other allegation levelled against Snape, making him walk a free man. Sirius had been furious about that, but he knew that it wouldn't have worked. Dumbledore still held a lot of power in the political sphere, but he took solace in the fact that the old man would die soon anyway.

Harry and Dylan had already made plans for pissing on the man's grave.

Hermione Granger had been horrified that her actions had caused the dismissal of Professor Snape. She was still unable to tell the teachers or Governors what had happened as nobody was willing to listen. Oh, they knew the _classes_ with Professor Snape were not real, but it had been enough to raise a red alert and things had quickly spiralled out of control. While Professor Dumbledore had assured her that it was not her fault, she still felt guilty, not to mention was furious with Potter and Greengrass for tricking her the way they did. She didn't even register the dirty looks being sent her way from the rest of the school.

The other members of the D.A. knew well and good how much help they were receiving from Harry Potter in teaching them Defence. Sure, they may not all agree with his theory about light and dark magic, but it wasn't as if he was forcing them to perform those spells! He had only explained the theory, given the incantation, had demonstrated it to them, and spent more time instructing them on how to counter those deadly curses. He was teaching one-quarter of the school for _free_ – Hogwarts education was expensive, after all – and yet Granger had tried to rat him out and had she succeeded, the classes would have been stopped.

Harry had not once asked for anything in return, only that they do their best so that they could protect themselves and their families in case of an attack. Hannah Abbott's mother had also been killed recently and the threat had just gotten real, and yet Granger didn't seem to understand that! So what if Harry's views on the Dark Arts differed from hers? People surprisingly agreed with Luna Lovegood when she said that Granger was too narrow-minded and unless she had the facts shoved in her face, she would never acknowledge it.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Draco Malfoy let out a shaky breath as he examined the rune cluster on the chart he had prepared. His hair was thin, his skin very pale and his high grades had dipped significantly over the past several months. He couldn't believe that his O.W.L. year was this bad! The teachers kept piling more homework on them all and Draco could barely finish it. Tears stung his eyes as he recalled the talk he had with Harry Potter in June.

The boy had been right. The Dark Lord only handed out punishments. His latest punishment had been worse than before. Oh, it was not physically painful this time, but it was agonising having to watch his parents be tortured before his very eyes because of his failure. He did not know what the Dark Lord was planning, but it had become significantly more important than just killing Albus Dumbledore. Whatever the plan was, it involved sneaking several Death Eaters into Hogwarts – which required Draco to succeed in repairing the cabinet.

Oh, how he wished he had listened to Potter back then. But then again, even if he had listened to Potter, did he have a choice at all? Draco had learnt by now that what the Dark Lord wants, the Dark Lord gets. It would never have made a difference. The Dark Lord wanted to punish his father for his failures and Draco was the perfect way to do it! To think the man – no, monster – would be willing to do this to a fifteen-year-old boy was disgusting!

Then again, the Dark Lord had tried to kill a fifteen-month-old infant and hadn't seen anything wrong with it.

The runes checked out. Now all he had to do was wait for the next shipment of materials, carve them correctly and also apply the enchantments. Once all this was over, he hoped that he, his mother and father would remain alive. At this point, he just wanted it all to end. He would not be the cause of the deaths of his parents.

Wiping the tears away, Draco got to work; another sleepless night in the dark, filthy room in the dungeons.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"The Dark Lord is demanding more direct results," said Snape stiffly. Clearly, his anger at being sacked had not evaporated.

"And what results would those be?" asked Dumbledore, looking worn out and utterly exhausted. He drowned the blue coloured potion Severus had brought with him and he felt the pain in his joints reduce. He knew the potion was highly addictive and dangerous in large quantities, but he was dying anyway. He honestly didn't care about any side effects.

"His attempts at gaining access to the prophecy orb have been – less than successful," said Snape as his lip curled. "The Department of Mysteries is locked tighter than a Gringotts vault, I'm told; no doubt Black and Croaker are involved. He's also angry at Potter's escape, both at the graveyard and at Potter Castle a few months back. He is thinking of another way in which he would be able to control Potter and he is demanding that I help him. I believe this is a test to prove my loyalty to him."

Dumbledore got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This could not be good. "What is his latest plan?

"He wants to kidnap Daphne Greengrass."

There was silence for several seconds. "I see," said Dumbledore slowly. "This is … troubling."

"Greengrass in only one person, Albus," said Snape quietly. "Need I remind you of the millions of lives that are at stake here? If I do not fulfil this mission, you will have no source from within the Dark Lord's ranks. He does not wish to kill her, so we can rescue her later. I shall provide you with information on how to get her out once she is captured. Miss Greengrass is a Slytherin and a pureblood. Trust me, the Dark Lord will not harm her."

Dumbledore sat quietly, pondering on what to do. On one hand, Severus' role in the campaign was extremely important because no one else would be willing to spy for him. His initial plan had been to turn young Dylan Lestrange into a spy as well but he could never get past the overprotective mother dragon that was Harry Potter, so that plan had been quickly scrapped. Severus' information had been useful over the past several months, so there was no alternative.

On the other hand, there was also Harry he had to consider. The boy would take the loss very badly and he knew it. But on the whole, considering the millions of lives that were at risk – was it worth it? Harry had a destiny – he had to die because of the Horcrux that was lodged in his scar, but the boy's rebellious attitude and he defending Voldemort's actions were quite unnerving to Albus. Maybe this would solve their problems.

If Daphne were to be kidnapped, Harry would turn to Dumbledore for guidance and support, thus increasing the chances of him sacrificing himself later on. Harry would blame himself for what had happened to his fiancée and that would work for Albus' plans. Severus would also be firmly cemented as Voldemort's trusted advisor, so it was a win-win situation. Using Severus' information, he would instruct Harry and Sirius to launch an attack on Voldemort's forces. Miss Greengrass could be saved, the Horcrux would be destroyed, and hopefully, Voldemort would meet his end. The world would greatly benefit from this plan.

But there was the ethical dilemma. Normally, Albus would be aghast that Severus would even suggest something like that and would have protested vehemently, but this was not a normal situation. What had happened during the last war, especially with the Potters and Sirius still haunted him, but the war was becoming deadlier and people were dying everywhere.

Voldemort had to be stopped by any means necessary and if that meant Daphne Greengrass being held hostage by Voldemort, then so be it. It would only be a temporary arrangement. They could rescue her later.

It was for the greater good of both the Magical and Muggle worlds. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Sadly, it was yet another burden he would have to carry to his grave.

 _'I hope you can forgive me, Harry, but I cannot let Voldemort win the war. We need to destroy him before he destroys the world. I shall do what I must.'_

"Here," said Snape, removing a phial containing a silvery substance. "I was able to procure the memory of the Dark Lord's resurrection from Crabbe Sr. I obliviated him after he gave it to me, so he should have no recollection of me having this memory."

"Very good, Severus," said Dumbledore enthusiastically. "Now we shall finally see why Harry did not want this memory viewed by anyone. Pour it in the Pensieve will you?"

Dumbledore and Snape dipped their hands into the Pensieve as they disappeared. When they finally emerged, Snape's lips were parted slightly in shock. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was white as a sheet. He covered his face with his left hand as he recalled everything he had seen in the memory – Harry admitting that he did not hate Voldemort, how he had been conflicted when Voldemort made the offer of accepting Harry as his son, how he had finally used a Killing Curse, _silently_ , thus indicating that he had indeed been practicing the Dark Arts.

"What have I done?" whispered Dumbledore, looking defeated, staring blankly at the wall. _Have I created yet another Dark Lord in Harry Potter? First Gellert, then Tom, and now Harry – am I truly responsible for it all?_

"What have I done?"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"That's it," said Harry encouragingly. "Keep trying, everyone! Think of the happiest memory you can recollect and feel the emotions of happiness, joy and love. These emotions are what power the charm, not the memory itself. Let them infuse you and once you are ready, cast!"

There were many who began shouting ' _Expecto Patronum_ ' immediately after his instruction. The silvery mist for many of them changed to form some sort of distinctive animal; after several weeks of practice, they were finally able to do it.

"Very good, Luna," said Harry with a smile as he saw her hare Patronus bounce around the chamber. "Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, Harry," said Luna, beaming at him.

Harry smiled as he saw several people looked in awe at the Patroni. Astoria's Patronus was a swan, Ginny Weasley's was a horse, Cedric's Diggory's was a German Shepard, Fred's Patronus was a hyena while George's was a coyote, and he could see Daphne's tigress regally looking at the other silvery animals. Dylan's eagle was gliding across the chamber and Harry's smile widened.

" _Expecto Patronum_!"

The massive thunderbird Patronus joined the rest as the Chamber of Secrets was filled with silvery animals and happy emotions.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Draco took a deep, shaky breath as he opened the doors of the Vanishing Cabinet. The bird was alive and chirping. His jaw dropped in shock. He couldn't believe it. He had done it! The bird was alive!

Just to make sure, he contacted Borgin again and tested the cabinet three more times with other animals. Sure enough, all of them survived the trip without any injuries. Draco collapsed on the floor as he laughed like a maniac, his hands and legs still shaking. Taking the mirror from an inside pocket of his robe, he tapped it and said, "Lucius Malfoy."

"Father, it is ready."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"The Vanishing Cabinet is ready, my Lord," said Lucius, kneeling in front of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort smirked. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he said in a high, cold voice, laced with sadistic amusement. "He just needed the right incentive to get to work. Are you sure he has succeeded, Lucius? I would be very displeased if something were to go wrong during transport."

"No, my Lord," said Lucius quickly. "Draco is a smart boy and Borgin has confirmed that the experiments have worked."

"So it would seem," said Voldemort casually. "Very well. You better hope it works, Lucius. Now, I have a new task for you."

"Of course, my Lord, I live only to serve you!"

Voldemort sneered at those words but did not comment. "We need more Death Eaters. Our new recruits are not up to the mark, evidenced by what we have witnessed over the past several months. I want you to travel around, find new and talented witches and wizards and convince them to join our cause. We need _assassins_ , Lucius, if we are to take over the Ministry of Magic. Give them practical tests so that they knew we aren't looking for anyone mediocre. I expect results."

"Yes, my Lord," said Lucius as he backed away from the room quickly.

"Rodolphus, Rabastan, you are to attack Hogsmeade with your teams," ordered Voldemort. "Terrorise the students but _don't_ kill them. However, if you are confronted by Aurors or members of the Order of the Phoenix, kill them all and be done with it. Your main assignments are to kidnap Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange, understood?"

"Yes, my Lord,"

"Severus, you will be leading the team which will be using the Vanishing Cabinet to enter Hogwarts," said Voldemort. "Again, if you encounter Order members, kill them. If the three of them are not at Hogsmeade, you'll have to kidnap them and bring them here. Your main assignment is to kill Albus Dumbledore."

"My Lord, if I may?" asked Severus. When Voldemort nodded, he continued. "May I know who is to kill Dumbledore? Your previous orders were for Draco to kill him but I was prepared to do the deed myself should the need arise; I was wondering if the plan had changed."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed dangerously as his fingers twitched. "Draco is not capable of killing anybody," he spat. "But he is to be given a chance to finish the deed. If not, you are to kill Dumbledore, is that clear?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"I want Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange here at my manor and I won't appreciate any sort of failure," said Voldemort coldly as he looked at them all. "It is in your best interests to see that the mission is accomplished. I will be providing some help for you during your attack. The Dementors have been instructed to not kiss the students, but just drain them all. It will prove to be a suitable distraction for the students and teachers – enough for you to capture the three."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

It was the first week of April and the sky outside was a rare sunny day in Scotland. Dylan Lestrange came out of his room and smiled when he saw his girlfriend by the window in the common room of Harry's suite. He silently walked up to her and hugged her from behind. Astoria gave a surprised squeak.

"Hello, beautiful," whispered Dylan, his breath warm against her ear. "Ready for our date?"

"You were the one who took so long to get dressed," said Astoria teasingly.

Dylan lightly nibbled on her earlobe. "I took a shower and got dressed in less than ten minutes. I woke up late, that's all!"

"So you forgot about our date?"

"Never," breathed Dylan as he turned her around, pulling her close. "So, how is it like, being fourteen years old?"

"It's only been a week, so I can't tell the difference," Astoria giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I can't believe I am dating a _younger man_."

"Only by a few months," protested Dylan, but he was interrupted when Astoria leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss. He smiled as he pulled her closer, running his fingers through her hair. "I love you, Astoria," he whispered sincerely.

"What?" asked Astoria, blinking in surprise.

"I love you," repeated Dylan, not at all fazed by her look of shock. "I know that we haven't dated for too long and that we're barely fourteen years old, but I want you to know how I feel about you. You've been my best friend since I was eleven and I've enjoyed every second of the past seven months we have been dating. I don't expect you to feel the same way, but I just wanted to tell you –"

"I love you too," said Astoria softly as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I never expected you to say something like that, that's why it surprised me. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't know how you would react, considering your childhood and how you were raised. But I do love you, Dylan, very much."

Dylan's eyes lit up in surprised happiness as he looked at his girlfriend. A dopey grin formed on his face as he asked, "Is this the part where I get to kiss you?"

"You can kiss me whenever you want, lover boy," teased Astoria right back.

"Really? Well then Miss Greengrass, let me demonstrate to you the greatness of one Dylan Lestrange!"

"Oh, quite full of yourself today, aren't you?" Astoria murmured as they lips met. They were quite oblivious to the couple watching them with fond smiles on their faces.

"Oh, they're so adorable!" gushed Daphne.

"Yeah, they are," Harry agreed, smiling faintly. "He's grown up so much, hasn't he? Just thinking of the small boy who was so shy in talking to anyone, to looking at him now, a confident fourteen-year-old is – startling – to say the least. Words cannot describe how proud of him I am."

"Words cannot describe how proud of _you_ I am," said Daphne softly as she looked at him. "You have come a long way too, Harry. Don't think you haven't changed for the better because you have. From the eleven-year-old Ravenclaw who seemed to be carved out of ice, to the proud young man you have become, I can't even begin to describe how happy I am that you have managed to overcome all your obstacles. Yes, we still have Voldemort to deal with but I have faith in you. Nothing is impossible for you Harry, and this is something I believe with all my heart. We'll get through this together, you'll see."

Harry smiled as he kissed the side of her face lovingly, savouring the moment, delicately cupping her cheek. "You're the light of my life, you're the love of my life," he said in a small voice. "I can't _ever_ live without you."

"You'll never have to, Harry. I'll _always_ be here by your side, _I promise_! You'll never be alone again. I love you."

"I love you too, Daphne."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A team of two dozen Death Eaters had Apparated to a hill overlooking the village of Hogsmeade, silently observing the hundreds of students slowly making their way towards the village.

Another dozen Death Eaters had Apparated to Knockturn Alley and at the specified time, walked towards Borgin and Burkes, drawing their wands in preparation for the task.


	37. The Battle of Hogsmeade

**_Chapter 37_**

 ** _The Battle of Hogsmeade_**

"I heard that a new restaurant has opened in Hogsmeade," as Astoria as they walked down the marble staircase.

"It's another branch of the Grand Elixir," explained Daphne.

"Wait, I love that place!" said Dylan excitedly. "Harry has taken me there a few times. Isn't it supposed to be the best restaurant in Magical Britain? Quite fancy too, actually."

"Yeah, and the food is delicious," agreed Astoria, grinning happily. She noticed that her soon-to-be brother-in-law was distracted. "Harry? Are you okay?"

"Huh?" blinked Harry in confusion. "Yeah, Tori, I'm fine. I just can't help but feel as though something is off."

He distractedly touched the Gryffindor and Slytherin rings on his left hand.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Draco Malfoy opened the doors of the Vanishing Cabinet and was surprised to see Severus Snape inside.

"Move aside, Draco," said Snape silkily. "I need to step out. How much longer before the others arrive?"

Draco looked at his wristwatch. "Just wait about a minute and we can transport another person. The cabinet is too old to handle continuous travel."

Snape hummed as he watched. Gibbon arrived a minute later.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"My Lord?" asked the portrait of a young woman, bowing respectfully.

"Alert the rest of the paintings in the castle," said Harry quietly. "There is something – odd _–_ with the wards, I can feel it. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but just keep an eye out, all of you. If you find anything suspicious, inform me and Professor Dumbledore at once."

"Yes, my Lord," said the witch as she left her painting.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Daphne asked him curiously.

"Nothing," Harry answered reassuringly. "You know what? Why don't you three go ahead? Grab a table at the Grand Elixir and I'll meet you there for lunch. I'll just prowl around the castle for a bit."

All three of them frowned but seeing the determined look on Harry's face, they knew it was futile to argue.

"Alright," said Dylan softly. "Don't stay for long, okay?"

"Fine, brat."

"Dolt!"

Harry chuckled as he shook his head in amusement, watching the three of them proceed to the entrance hall. Quickly walking up the stairs, he went to his suite and grabbed the Marauder's Map, checking for anything out of the ordinary. The wards were not flaring up but Harry was way too paranoid to stay still. The attack on Potter Castle had given him a wakeup call – it was too close for comfort and he and Dylan could have easily been killed or kidnapped that night. Giving instructions to the portraits, he prowled around the castle, checking the Map as he went along. It would take time – Hogwarts was a large castle, after all – but he would ensure everything was fine.

Idly, he took the stairs leading him from the entrance hall to the dungeons. The attackers at Potter Castle had entered through the dungeons as well, so it was a good place to start.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Yaxley, report," said Rabastan as he observed the students through his Omnioculars.

"The two Greengrass sisters and your son have just left the castle," said Yaxley as he walked up to him. "I expect they'll be in the village in about ten minutes."

"Nott, did you tell your son not to come to Hogsmeade today?" asked Avery.

"And risk him babbling about the mission to his friends?" Nott snorted. "Have you forgotten that my son is a close friend of Harry Potter? I don't have a death wish. Besides, we won't be killing anyone here, so it's not a problem. Theodore will run and hide, I'm sure of it. Really, what a disappointment, that boy is. All the time fiddling with potions when he could be studying the Dark Arts and curses instead; doesn't use his wand unless necessary," he said in disgust.

"Get ready," ordered Rodolphus. He didn't really care for Nott's comments. He and Bellatrix would give anything for a child of their own but he convinced himself that he would have a nephew he could spoil rotten soon enough. _Your father and I are coming for you, Dylan. You'll be back with your family very soon._ "Potter isn't here. Inform Snape that Potter might still be in the castle. It's up to his team to kidnap the boy. We'll take care of Greengrass and Dylan."

"What about the younger Greengrass?" asked Avery.

Rodolphus paused. "Leave her. Follow the Dark Lord's orders; Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange, no one else."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Potter is inside the castle," said Snape as he deactivated the mirror. "It's our job to capture him."

"Good," said Alecto Carrow in delight. "I've wanted to see what little Potter is made of. He looks quite delicious; _very_ handsome boy, isn't he?" she said with a giggle.

Snape looked visibly disgusted. Why was he constantly surrounded by people who were enamoured with Potter's good looks? No, thoughts about Potter were a distraction and he could not afford to lose focus today. Their mission was vital as it would prove to the Ministry that the Dark Lord's power had not diminished, despite recent setbacks.

Contrary to the public's opinion, Sirius Black had not been a sitting duck over the past several months. Once Harry had informed him of Voldemort's return, he had swiftly taken charge, utilizing the best resources the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Mysteries had to offer. Unknown to the entire magical population, the Department of Mysteries was more than just a research centre. It also worked as the nerve centre for the protection of Magical Britain, working closely with a secret elite wing of the D.M.L.E. The intelligence wing had been working more efficiently than ever before, thanks in part to the judicious use of the inflow of gold allotted to the department by the budget committee; the result of which made Voldemort snarl in anger.

The time was long gone when Sirius used to depend on flashy spells to win his battles. Now more mature and patient, he realised why the Black family held ultimate political power for so many centuries – it was due to the power of subtlety. He needed to work in the shadows to bring down the Dark Lord, in addition to the war effort carried on by the Aurors. Working directly with Amelia and Croaker, the Ministry had managed to target Voldemort where it would hurt most during wartime – money, personnel, and resources.

Even though the Wizengamot had been uncooperative in the beginning, Sirius had lashed out against the body for its cowardly behaviour. The attack on Diagon Alley before Yule was just unacceptable and if the members did not want to vote, they were to face jail time for treason as they were failing the people of Magical Britain with their uncooperative behaviour. With a few well-placed threats, the Wizengamot got its act together and had swiftly passed laws that would facilitate Sirius' work. Just two weeks later, secret organizations that operated underground were shut, with their leaders in Azkaban. Voldemort's biggest financiers also found themselves in Azkaban when Gringotts was forced to reveal their bank transactions, tracing them to phantom companies that were linked to various Death Eaters through a vast array of smaller businesses. In other words, Voldemort was slowly finding himself being drained of funds.

Waging a war did not come cheap, after all. The tight control the Ministry had over the black market was another big blow to Voldemort's forces. The sensor net was reconfigured, closing Britain and Ireland to the rest of the world, thus making sure that Voldemort could not take his campaign abroad without detection. That move hindered his plan to get more personnel from Europe. Sirius may not be fighting public battles, but he had stabbed the Death Eaters in the back. Security at the headquarters of the British Ministry of Magic in London was at peak efficiency, thus making it infinitely harder for Voldemort to infiltrate the government. The Dark Lord was already losing the war, which was why the current mission was extremely important to him.

The very thought of losing the war made Snape's upper lip curl in disgust.

Just as the last person, Amycus Carrow emerged from the Vanishing Cabinet, there was a loud crack as the cabinet crumbled. They watched mutely as the plates which Draco had installed came undone, destroying it.

"I thought you fixed it!" said Alecto furiously, glaring at Draco.

" _I did_! How else would you have entered the castle, you stupid woman? The cabinet is very old and I told you it might not last after this trip!"

"Watch your tone, boy," growled Alecto threateningly as she pointed her wand at Draco. "Or be prepared to face the consequences."

Draco glared back at the woman. "Touch me, Carrow, and you'll have to face Aunt Bella's wrath!"

"Enough!" Snape said harshly, killing the argument. "We have entered the castle as planned, so the cabinet isn't important anymore. After we kill Dumbledore, we won't be using this exit anyway. Draco, you have one chance only. Kill Dumbledore or face the consequences."

Draco gulped as his nervousness returned; his body trembled as he followed the rest of the Dark Lord's followers.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry's heart began beating faster as he felt more disturbances in the Hogwarts wards. It was true that the wards answered to Dumbledore ultimately and the headmaster controlled them, but the family rings also gave Harry the passive ability to scan and sense the protective enchantments around the castle. Maybe he could directly access the wards, he wasn't certain, but he had never tried that because he would have to take control at Hogwarts' command centre which was the headmaster's office, just like how his study operated as the central command centre for Potter Castle. The Marauder's Map was showing nothing out of the ordinary and he was just about to turn around and climb up the stairs back to the entrance hall when there was a dot in the lowest part of the dungeons, a place that even the house-elves never ventured.

 _Severus Snape_

What was Snape doing here? Wasn't he sacked? The dot was followed by another.

 _Draco Malfoy_

This was weird ... Draco was a neat freak, so it didn't explain what he would be doing in such a filthy place. Unless Draco really was being buggered by Snape as he had claimed once? Another dot!

 _Alecto Carrow_

 _Amycus Carrow_

 _Saul Gibbon_

A dozen names appeared, with them walking up the stairs to the castle proper.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

The silvery thunderbird burst from the tip of Harry's wand and flew off to warn Professor McGonagall. If Hogwarts was indeed under attack, he would need backup in order to fight the Death Eaters. He went forward, idly checking the map. Any second now ...

He waited at the end of the corridor just as Snape and the others turned towards his direction.

Flashes of spellfire could be seen as the battle began.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Look, Daphne!" Astoria exclaimed excitedly. "Twilfitt and Tattings have a new selection of spring dresses. Come on!"

" _Not again_ _!_ " Dylan threw up his hands in exasperation. "Tori, how many clothes do you want to buy? You have more clothes than Spain! Daphne, do something!"

Daphne chuckled in amusement as she kissed Dylan's cheek affectionately. Just at that moment, the temperature suddenly dropped. She frowned as she cast a warming charm on herself, but it didn't help. The sky got darker until the village was bathed in dim, grey light coming from the distant sun.

"What's going on?" asked Tracy as she joined them, her arm locked with her boyfriend, Theo Nott.

"Dementors," whispered Daphne in fear as the soul-sucking demons descended upon them. Hundreds of students in the village began screaming in panic when Daphne, Astoria and Dylan raised their wands.

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

The tigress, swan and eagle burst from the tip of their wands and charged at the incoming Dementors. The other members of the D.A., getting the hint, drew their wands and cast their patronuses too. Some were successful, but others weren't, however, the Dementors had not expected resistance. Just as they were driven away, two dozen Death Eaters Apparated in the middle of the village and started firing spells. The sound of sirens blaring could be heard everywhere, the alert charms installed by the Ministry of Magic activating immediately.

"Get that Caterwauling Charm deactivated!" shouted Yaxley through the magical earpiece embedded in his mask.

Dylan's face was stony as he joined the fight, twirling in mid-air, non-verbal spells flowing easily from his wand. Next to him, Daphne was dancing around the Death Eaters, avoiding their curses as she fired lethal spells at them.

The battle of Hogsmeade had begun.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry slashed his wand in the air as the battle intensified, destructive dark curses slipping easily from his wand as he duelled Snape. The older man, however, was not an inner circle Death Eater for nothing. He too was very proficient in the Dark Arts and could not help but be impressed, however grudgingly, by Harry's talent in the Dark Arts. Draco Malfoy had been pushed to the side as he tried to shield himself from the flying debris and curses, looking in awe as Harry fought twelve to one.

However, the odds didn't last for long. The newer recruits were nowhere near as talented as the inner circle members and were quickly taken out by direct or stray curses cast by Harry and Snape. Harry grunted in pain as a cutting curse impacted his face, drawing first blood. His eyes darkened as more lethal spells flew his way and his anger at Snape intensified.

 _Do you want to play to your strengths? Then I'll show you mine, Snape!_

 _Switching tactics ... Battle-Transfiguration it is ... let's see how to manage to evade my attacks now, you greasy git._

"I'll deal with him!" yelled Snape, through the magical communications device in his mask, to the Carrow siblings and Gibbon. "Take Draco and go! Finish Dumbledore and I'll subdue Potter!"

The other three nodded as they fought through the incoming spells, disappearing down a corridor in between Harry and Snape. Harry cursed his luck. Where were the teachers when you need them?

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

" _Hogwarts is under attack_ ," said Harry's calm voice. " _A dozen Death Eaters are deep in the dungeons, about to attack from inside the castle. I'm about to engage them but I need reinforcements_."

The enormous thunderbird dissolved into mist as McGonagall looked at it in shock. As she and the rest of the teachers in the staff room were about to leave to help Harry, Professor Sprout ran inside, puffing.

"Hogsmeade is under attack," she said, panting. "All our students are in danger. Two dozen Death Eaters and by the looks of it, they've brought Dementors too."

"I'll take care of the attack inside," said Dumbledore, rising to his full height. This was not what was supposed to happen. There had been no attack on Hogsmeade from what Severus had told him. Maybe Voldemort did not inform Severus and the outside attack was just a diversion to bring the rest of the teachers out. It was still a few months early for him to die, but it could not be helped. Severus had been briefed about the soul piece in Harry's scar and how the boy had to die by Voldemort's hand _only_.

That was the only way to accurately destroy the soul piece and maybe, just maybe, save Harry in the process, but there was a very slim chance that the boy would actually survive. The information which he had given to Harry regarding the Horcruxes would also have to do. He had placed memory phials in his office, with any and all information he had obtained on Horcruxes, and had written in his Will that they were to be given to Harry; hopefully, the boy would be able to destroy the Horcruxes and end the threat of Voldemort for good. Albus only hoped the boy wasn't selfish and sacrificed himself when the time was right. There was no telling what would happen if Voldemort was allowed to gain more power.

As the rest of the staff quickly made their way to Hogsmeade, Albus Dumbledore made his way to the dungeons.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"We're outnumbered," yelled Dylan. "We need reinforcements!"

Daphne twirled three hundred and sixty degrees and slashed her wand as a jet of orange light impacted a Death Eater, making the organs inside his body liquefy as he died a horrible, agonizing death.

"Tori, you need to leave, NOW!" he shouted. Astoria may be intelligent but she was not a warrior like her sister and he knew that. "Theo, take her with you and get the hell out of here!"

Theo and Tracy didn't hesitate. They dragged Astoria away, who wanted to stay and help her sister and boyfriend, tears streaming down her face.

"Let me go!" she struggled. "I need to help them!"

"You'll only be a distraction to them!" said Tracy firmly. "None of us is good at this and we'll only cause more problems. Don't lose your head, Astoria! Remember Harry's lessons! Look, other members of the D.A. are helping them. Harry and the Aurors will be here soon. Come on, let's take care of the injured! Lead the younger children away from here."

Fred and George Weasley were together, fighting with such ferociousness that it reminded the inner circle of their late twin uncles, Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Other members of the D.A. were fighting too. Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Parvati and Padma Patil, Cedric Diggory, Luna Lovegood, Blaise Zabini, Adrian Pucey, and several others.

"Don't kill!" hissed Rodolphus angrily through the magical communications device. "We are _not_ to kill the children!"

"But they've already killed four of the new recruits! Take out Greengrass and your nephew, quickly! They're the ones doing the most damage!" yelled Avery angrily. Indeed, now there were only twenty of the Death Eaters, fighting against more number of students.

"Aurors and Order members on the way!" shouted Yaxley as he began duelling Amelia Black who had just Apparated into the village, bringing a contingent of Aurors with her.

Rabastan couldn't believe what he was seeing; the way his son fought was so magnificent that he was actually proud of the boy. Dylan was standing next to Daphne Greengrass, fighting him and Rodolphus, both teenagers not budging an inch.

"Potter has taught them well," snarled Rodolphus. "Their teamwork shows that they have been practising together. They're good, but not good enough!"

Rabastan grunted as a spell connected with his chest as he upped his attack. Both their targets were right in front of them. They needed both alive and unharmed, which meant they couldn't use their wide arsenal of spells against them. "We need to finish this soon before we lose our forces," he shouted.

"Nott, Avery, get behind those kids and stun them!" ordered Rodolphus.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

In the dungeons of Hogwarts, Harry Potter was engaged in a furious fight with Severus Snape as the corridor around them was being destroyed. Getting a signal from his comrades that Dumbledore had arrived, Snape sent a blasting curse at the ceiling, making the debris fall between him and Potter. While he knew that kidnapping Potter was part of the plan, killing Dumbledore was more important. If Potter was weakened, it would work in their favour.

Running up the stairs, he saw Alecto, Amycus and Gibbon fighting Dumbledore while again, Draco was pushed against the wall, though this time, Snape was sure the headmaster had done it to protect the boy. When Snape entered the corridor, Dumbledore's attack faltered and soon, his wand went flying from his hand as Snape disarmed him. He was quickly surrounded by the Death Eaters.

"Dumbledore wandless!" cackled Amycus. "Dumbledore defeated! Oh, how delightful!"

"Do it, Draco!" hissed Alecto as Draco slowly made his way towards the old man, his hands shaking like jelly.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer," said Dumbledore, shaking his head sadly. "I understand that you were coerced into doing this, but this is not the only path you can take, my boy. I urge you to reconsider. We can offer you protection, Draco."

"Yeah, right," snorted Amycus. "What help can you offer anybody when you're on the floor, about to be killed? What's the matter, old man? Reflexes aren't what they were, I see."

"Old age, Amycus … one day perhaps you'll understand ... if you are lucky ..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Amycus angrily. "Always the same, weren't you, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, _nothing_. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill you at all! Come on, Draco, do it!"

But there was no curse coming from the pale boy's lips. Snape realised that he had given the boy a chance and pushed Draco out of the way. The other Death Eaters said nothing, holding their breath in anticipation. Finally, the moment had come ... the moment they had all been waiting for ...

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.

"Severus ... please ..."

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. " _Avada K_ –"

He didn't finish the incantation as Snape began screaming in unbearable pain. There were several cuts forming on his body as inch by inch, he fell to the ground in pieces, bringing agonising pain to the former Potions Master of Hogwarts. The other three Death Eaters turned, only to be met with dark red jets of light. They too screamed as their skin melted, their blood boiling in their veins as they died painfully.

The last thing Snape saw before he died was the triumphant smirk on the face of a bruised and battered Harry James Potter, the boy he had come to loathe as much as his father.

"That's for revealing the prophecy to Voldemort, Snape," spat Harry as he looked at the several dozen pieces of Snape's body in satisfaction. He summoned Dumbledore's wand to his hand, idly noting that it felt warm and comfortable in his palm as though it was always meant to be with him.

Draco Malfoy threw up as he saw the dead bodies of the Death Eaters. He backed away, looking terrified when Harry looked at him.

"No, please," begged Draco. "I-I didn't have a choice! Don't kill me! My parents – tortured – the Dark Lord – threatened to kill – _please_!"

Harry simply stared at the boy. "Relax," he said impassively. "I'm not going to kill you."

Draco began sobbing his heart out, crouched in a foetal position. It was over. Dumbledore was not dead, but the Death Eaters were. The Dark Lord was going to kill him and his parents, he knew it!

"Harry, what have you done?" asked Dumbledore, aghast, his face pale, too weak to even get up. What had happened? One moment everything was going according to plan and Severus was about to kill him, and suddenly Severus and the other Death Eaters were killed?

Which meant … Harry was now the master of the Elder Wand! The power of the wand had not been destroyed as he had intended!

"You're playing a very dangerous game, Dumbledore," said Harry darkly. "If I, a person who only has passive control of the wards could detect that something was wrong, how could _you,_ a wizard who is more experienced and knowledgeable than I, having complete access to the wards, not know what was going on? You willingly let this happen, didn't you? What was your motive? I –"

Harry stopped as his heart began beating faster, blood draining from his face. The locket hanging from around his neck was giving out pulses of magic and only now did he realise what that meant. The Potter crest on the locket was glowing with a dark shade of red.

"No!" Harry exclaimed in horror as he ran down the corridor, just as Professors Slughorn and Sprout entered.

Daphne and Dylan were in danger!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Your son is good, Rabastan," said Rodolphus as a smirk formed on his lips. _The boy was actually enjoying this!_ "I can see why Dylan was able to wear the heir ring on his finger. He certainly is worthy of carrying the Lestrange name. Oh, I can't wait to spoil him rotten!"

Rabastan grunted. Yes, he was impressed too. It was disgusting that his son was a half-blood, but such talent for a boy who was barely fourteen years old ... yes, he was talented because he had been trained extensively by Harry Potter, but still ... the fact remained that Dylan would make an outstanding Death Eater.

Daphne Greengrass was no less. With all the injuries and cuts on her face and body as she fought them ferociously, she looked more like a warrior princess. In fact, Rodolphus was reminded of his wife when he fought the sixteen-year-old girl. Such power, such strength, such knowledge, such talent, coupled with beauty and grace – no wonder Potter was in love with her. Who wouldn't be? He certainly had been smitten with Bellatrix Black when he had been at school for similar reasons.

If not for that bitch Longbottom, he and Bella might have been blessed with a daughter like Daphne Greengrass. Rodolphus didn't feel guilty at all for what he had done to Frank and Alice. They deserved it for denying him and his wife the ability to bear children naturally.

"Get ready," hissed Rabastan. "NOW!"

" _Stupefy_!"

Four jets of red light flew towards the two teenagers from all sides. Daphne and Dylan were able to deflect the two being fired by the masked Lestrange brothers, but they did not see the two coming from behind. As the spells collided with their backs, they dropped to the ground, unconscious.

"Get their wands too," said Rodolphus. "Quickly, we must get out of here."

"DAPHNE! DYLAN! STOP! STOP! _STOOOOOP_!"

The roar of rage could be heard everywhere as Harry Potter ran towards them, his face writ with fury.

"Get him!" ordered Rabastan. "We'll take these two to the Dark Lord! Capture him too!"

Harry fired deadly cures at the Death Eaters just as the two holding an unconscious Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange Disapparated with a _crack_.

"NOOOO!" screamed Harry at the top of his voice, tears streaming down his face. "COME BACK! BRING THEM BACK!"

The Sword of Gryffindor materialised in his hand in a flash of gold as Harry began gutting down every Death Eater he could get his hands on.

"WHERE ARE THEY?" demanded Harry to a Death Eater. "Where did they take them?"

"I – I," stuttered Avery before his chest was impaled by the basilisk venom imbibed silver blade.

"I'm asking you again!" shouted Harry, ignoring a cutting curse that impacted his shoulder. Blood was pouring from various cuts on his body. "WHERE ARE DAPHNE AND DYLAN?"

"Headquarters," answered Yaxley, looking terrified as the sword inched closer.

" _Where?_ " hissed Harry, his eyes turning impossibly jet black, green having completely disappeared. "Where is it?"

Yaxley choked as Harry tried to crush his throat. "F-Fidelius," said Yaxley before the blade impacted his heart too. Harry collapsed on the ground as the sword disappeared again.

The Aurors had managed to round up the remaining Death Eaters. The students who had fought were all injured but there had been no deaths among them because the Death Eaters had not been actively trying to kill, thankfully. They were being rushed to St Mungo's and the Hogwarts hospital wing.

"Harry!" cried Amelia worriedly, kneeling down in front of her son. Furious tears were streaming down his face as he looked at her; the world started spinning in front of him as his vision blurred.

"They've taken them away," rasped Harry, finding it difficult to breathe, not able to bear the pain in his chest. "Daphne and Dylan have been kidnapped."

With that, he fainted in his adoptive mother's arms.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The Hogwarts hospital wing was filled with injured people as Madam Pomfrey and other healers from St Mungo's treated them. The Aurors were taking statements from various people, the dicta-quills noting it down quickly. There had been one death, however.

"Rufus Scrimgeour is dead," said Kingsley grimly. "He was killed during the battle."

Amelia sighed as she closed her eyes in defeat. "Anyone else?"

"No, he was the only one from our side but several of our people are badly injured," said Kingsley. "Fifteen Death Eaters are alive and the rest of them are dead. Their bodies are being transported to the Ministry morgue as we speak."

"Good. Shack, you're now the acting Head Auror until the Wizengamot makes it permanent or appoints someone else. Hold a press conference as soon as possible and tell them that no student was killed and that out of the thirty-six Death Eaters that attacked, only two got away. Also, inform them about the kidnapping of Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange. The more eyes looking for them, the faster we can get them back. Send a team to look for the two."

"Yes ma'am," said Kingsley as he left the hospital wing.

Amelia moved towards the bed of Draco Malfoy where Sirius was listening to the story grimly. She keyed herself into the privacy charm and heard him continue.

"– Snape was about to kill Dumbledore. He had just finished the first syllable of the Killing Curse when Potter arrived and killed them. It was," Draco swallowed as he tried to forget those images, "horrifying. They all died violent deaths. I begged him to spare me; he just stared back, telling me that he wouldn't kill me."

Taking a deep breath, he continued. "After that, Potter accused Dumbledore of knowing about the attack and yet not doing anything about it. That's when he looked horrified about something and ran away. Professors Sprout and Slughorn arrived and walked us to the hospital wing."

"You had no idea about the attack on Hogsmeade?" asked Sirius shrewdly.

"No sir," said Draco truthfully. "I wasn't told anything. I was only told to repair the cabinet and kill Dumbledore when the party arrived. I didn't even know who was supposed to come through the Vanishing Cabinet."

"Do your parents know about this mission? Why would Voldemort put you up to this? You're just a fifteen-year-old boy."

Draco shook his head weakly. "He never expected me to survive. He expected me to die trying. This was the punishment for my father's recent failures. When I did not succeed, he – he tortured Mother and Father right in front of me. Before that, he tortured _me_ with the Cruciatus Curse. If I had not fixed that cabinet, he would have killed them. I was only fulfilling my duty as a son! I was trying to protect my parents!"

"You will not be arrested today, Mr Malfoy," said Amelia finally. "But you _will_ be tried by the Council of Magical Law for your actions. You are not to leave Hogwarts until you have received your trial. Any attempt to do so will lead to arrest. Do you know why Daphne and Dylan were kidnapped?"

"They were kidnapped?" asked Draco in surprise. "No, I have no idea why they would do that."

After giving him a dreamless sleep potion, the couple went towards Harry's bed. The nearly sixteen-year-old boy was staring out of the window, a blank look on his face. When he had woken up, Harry had been hysterical until Sirius had to subdue him. The tears had since vanished, leaving a cold mask behind.

A mask much, much colder than usual, his emotions buried deep within.

"Voldemort's headquarters is under the Fidelius," said Harry quietly. "We need a new plan to get inside it."

"Are you sure Dumbledore knew about the attack?" asked Sirius, frowning.

"Positive," said Harry coldly as they walked towards the headmaster. Conjuring privacy screens and enchantments, he looked at the dying man without a hint of remorse in his heart. "Hello, Dumbledore."

"Harry," said Dumbledore as pain shot through his body. "My boy, I don't have much time. There is more information that you need to know. The Horcruxes –"

"The diary of Tom Riddle, the ring of Marvolo Gaunt, the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff and the locket of Salazar Slytherin. Anything else?"

"There is also his snake, Nagini," Dumbledore added urgently. "I know for sure that the snake is a Horcrux from what I have observed and heard from Severus. Then –"

He hesitated. His plan for Severus to give Harry this information had been shot and there was no other way. Albus knew that he was dying, so unless he parted with this delicate information, there was no hope at all. He only hoped that Harry, Sirius and Amelia would make the correct choice.

"My boy, there is no easy way for me to tell you this," said Dumbledore, closing his eyes. "When Voldemort attacked you on October 31st, 1991, when the Killing Curse rebounded on him, a part of Voldemort's soul was severed from his body and managed to latch onto the only living thing in the room – you. There is a piece of his soul in your scar, Harry. This is the reason your scar hurt that night last summer in Grimmauld Place. Your connection with Voldemort became stronger when he was resurrected and I believe it is because of that soul piece that you can speak to snakes and were able to claim the Slytherin Lordship. For Voldemort to be killed, all his Horcruxes need to be destroyed – including the one in your scar."

Sirius and Amelia looked at each other, relief evident on their faces. Harry's mind was processing information quickly as he realised now why he had Voldemort's memories in his mind. His house-elves might have destroyed the Horcrux, but apparently, Harry had retained the knowledge from the soul-piece.

"So what do you think I should do? Extract the soul piece and destroy it?" asked Harry mildly, ignoring the arrogance of the man in dismissing Lily Potter's heritage.

"There is no way a Horcrux can be extracted from a container, my boy," said Dumbledore sombrely. "I'm sorry Harry, but the only way for the Horcrux to be truly destroyed is if Voldemort destroyed it himself. You will have to willingly let Voldemort kill you. I'm sorry."

"Well, then it's a good thing that the soul piece in Harry's scar has already been destroyed," spat Amelia furiously. "You bloody manipulative old goat! You raised my son like a _pig for slaughter_! I'm half tempted to slit your throat right now!"

"It was necessary, Amelia! Voldemort has to be stopped! It must be done for the greater good of all! Countless lives are at stake."

"Alright," said Harry, with a dark, predatory smile on his lips. "Let's assume that you are right and that I will have to sacrifice myself. Tell me this – why did you knowingly allow Hogwarts to be attacked?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but began coughing violently. Even his blood was turning black because of the curse.

"No answer?" asked Harry, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm glad the curse I cast on the fake ring Horcrux is killing you, Dumbledore, because had I not already caused your death, I would have killed you on the spot."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock as he exclaimed, "Excuse me?"

"All the Horcruxes expect this newly discovered snake have been destroyed, including the one in Harry's scar," said Sirius quietly.

"Nice wand," Harry commented, twirling the Elder Wand in his fingers. "It looks quite unique too. Let's see how well it works in helping me shatter your already weakened mental shields."

"No! Sirius, you're the Minister of Magic!" said Dumbledore desperately. "You can't let him do this, not when I'm bedridden."

"You reap what you sow," said Sirius darkly. "You _dare_ ask for mercy when you showed us none? You were the Chief Warlock and yet decided to throw me in Azkaban, knowing of my innocence. You placed Harry at Petunia's feet knowing how much he was going to suffer. No, Dumbledore, I'm not going to stop him. I'll even sign an executive order that ensures that what he's doing is legal. I want to know exactly how deep your betrayal goes."

"Amelia! You're known for always following the law. You yourself said that no one is above the law. This is wrong!"

Amelia looked at Dumbledore with barely concealed disgust. "Yes, I am a follower of the law," she said angrily. "But you are forgetting, Dumbledore, that I am also a _wife_ and a _mother_! And what you did to my husband and children is unforgivable! I may not have given birth to Harry and Dylan, but I do consider them my children. Right now, my oldest son is in pain because his brother and fiancée were kidnapped. My other son was kidnapped and you knowingly did _nothing_! What next? Are you going to take Rigel away from me too? No, I'm not going to interfere this time. This stops now. It's people like you who manipulate those of us who strictly follow the law and use us for your own benefit. I need to get Daphne and Dylan back and you're being very uncooperative. Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, under the authority bestowed upon me by the Wizengamot of Magical Britain and Ireland, you are hereby under arrest. Harry, _do it!_ "

Dumbledore couldn't do anything to stop it as Sirius and Amelia left, not wanting to watch. He had already been horribly weakened because of the curse and the resultant battle. He saw the cold blackish-emerald eyes and before he could even say anything to convince Harry not to do it, the boy struck.

" _LEGILIMENS_!"

After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore gasped as Harry pulled out of his mind, and stared into the black depths of the eyes that belonged to the boy in front of him. He wondered what had happened to the boy's eyes. Were they not supposed to be green?

"You know something? Had the Horcrux not been removed, I _would_ have sacrificed myself," Harry said quietly. "Had the existence of magic been a threat, I would have sacrificed myself a dozen times over to protect our world. But you have the nerve to ask me to do so without giving me a choice, having taken _everything_ from me."

There was sudden wetness in Harry's eyes as he stared at Dumbledore. " _Who_ do you think you are? What _right_ do you have in denying me my existence in the world? I'm not as selfish as you perceive me, Dumbledore. You took so much from me. You caused the death of my parents, you unjustly imprisoned my godfather, you placed me with magic-hating Muggles, you tried to manipulate me, tried to martyr me, sacrificed my brother and fiancée, and _yet_ you expect me to forget everything and do as you say?"

"Harry –" said Dumbledore weakly.

"Daphne and Dylan are the most important people in the world to me," hissed Harry, his rage growing no bounds, a lone tear sliding down his face from orbs as black as the cosmos. "And right now, I have no idea if they are even _alive_. You _knowingly_ let Daphne be kidnapped so that I would blame myself and walk to my death. No, Dumbledore. You have brought this upon yourself. Trust me, if anything happens to Daphne or Dylan, I will _burn_ the very world you were trying to save!"

"A world without them isn't a world worth saving! Especially when it's filled with ungrateful, selfish, arrogant people like you! You expect me to fight fair and follow the law when you have taken the two people who are the reason for keeping my sanity intact! I am cornered by both my allies as well as my enemies. _I am human too, Dumbledore!_ I have feeling and emotions too! I am not a tool to be used! Why can't you understand that?"

"You were so _sure_ that I had to die that you formed such disgusting plans around it. Had someone in _your_ family held a piece of Voldemort's soul in them, would you be willing to kill them so callously too? Would you be willing to kill Ariana, just to defeat another Dark Lord? Oh wait, you've already done that! I shouldn't be surprised that you did the same to me. After all, I am a relative stranger to you. Why should you care about my happiness? You better hope that Daphne and Dylan are alright, Dumbledore because if something were to happen to them, I swear in the name of Mother Magic, Voldemort will be the _least_ of your problems!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat as Harry walked away. He had only been trying to save the world from Voldemort's wrath. Harry's words left a deep mark on him as he felt compelled to question himself. Would he have killed Ariana if she held a piece of Voldemort's soul in her too? Would he have been willing to sacrifice his sister like he had been willing to sacrifice Harry? Like he had sacrificed the boy's parents, godfather, fiancée and brother?

Albus choked back a sob, guilt eating him alive like the very curse that was slowly killing him, as he soon lost consciousness.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: If you think Harry shouting during the battle was melodramatic, well yeah, it was. He was tired and injured, his emotions all over the place, and most important of all, he's barely sixteen years old. It's not unnatural for him to lose control. I told you that Snape would meet a sticky end. I hope it was satisfactory. What do you think of Dumbledore now? I wanted to make him a complex character, and I sincerely hope I have portrayed him that way._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	38. Father and Son

**_Chapter 38_**

 ** _Father and Son_**

Dylan groaned in pain as he regained consciousness. His body ached everywhere because of the way he had fought in Hogsmeade. Opening, his eyes, he blinked in panic when he realised that he was in a small room. There were two mattresses on the floor, the other being occupied by –

"Daphne!" he cried frantically. "Daph, please wake up!"

She winced in pain and opened her eyes. Daphne blinked at him and croaked out, "Where are we?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure we're not at Hogwarts," said Dylan grimly.

"Oh, great," muttered Daphne as she sat up. "We've been kidnapped."

They sat there in silence for five minutes after which Daphne got up and began examining the room. Their wands and lockets were all taken away and since they couldn't even summon a house-elf, she carefully touched the walls of the room, trying to see if there was a hidden passageway.

"What are you doing?" asked Dylan curiously.

"Trying to find a way out," she replied quietly. Just as she neared the door, it opened, revealing a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and very familiar looking grey eyes.

Dylan gasped. "Father," he breathed, his eyes wide in shock and recognition.

Rabastan Lestrange felt his heart clench when he entered the room and observed Dylan. Had the boy just uttered the one word he had been longing to hear since he had found out about his son? He could definitely see the family resemblance in the boy. The cleft chin that was dominant in his family over the past two generations was present and the grey eyes were also another indication. Dylan's hair was a lighter shade of brown with slight curls, no doubt inherited from his mother, and his face was on the thinner side as well. All in all, Rabastan had to admit that his son was a very good-looking boy, a real eye catcher once he grows up. He reached up and gently cupped his son's face. He couldn't believe he was finally meeting the boy he had been pining for so long.

"Dylan," said Rabastan softly as he stroked the boy's face lightly with his thumb. He suddenly felt uncomfortable. He had wanted to meet his son for so long and yet now that they were face to face, he didn't know how to react. After a minute of staring at each other, several emotions and thoughts running through their minds, Rabastan took out a slip of parchment and showed it to them. "Read this."

Not having a choice, Dylan and Daphne read what was written on the piece of parchment.

 _The residence of the Dark Lord can be found on the_ _highest hill in the village of Little Hangleton_

"Follow me," ordered Rabastan. "If you both try to escape, you'll be very sorry indeed."

Daphne and Dylan gripped each other's hand tightly as they followed the older man. They only hoped that Harry and the Ministry would find them soon.

Rabastan Apparated and they found themselves before a handsome-looking manor. Moving away from the entrance hall, they were quickly taken to the ballroom which had been converted into Voldemort's throne room. When they entered, they saw the Dark Lord sitting on a throne, with Bellatrix and Rodolphus by his side. Dylan winced slightly as he and Daphne were pushed to their knees, forcing them to kneel in front of him.

"Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange," said Voldemort silkily. "Welcome to my home."

"Lord Voldemort," said Daphne, looking directly at the Dark Lord. "Thank you, but we would be more welcome at a place where we belong."

 _"Crucio!"_

"NO!" shouted Dylan but it was too late.

Daphne was twitching and screaming as the curse impacted her, even if it was only for a few seconds. Her eyes gleamed with hatred, flashing an eerie white for an instant, dark blonde hair falling over her eyes as she glared at her attacker.

"Don't you _dare_ speak the Dark Lord's name," hissed Bellatrix angrily as she lowered her wand.

Rodolphus grimaced as he looked at Dylan's reaction. This was not the way he wanted to meet his nephew.

"I must admit, I am surprised, Miss Greengrass," said Voldemort twirling his wand in his hand. "Not many people are brave enough to say my name, let alone do so in front of me."

"You're forgetting who I'm betrothed to," said Daphne, getting her breathing under control.

"Ah yes, of course … Harry Potter's fiancée; how lovely to have you here, my dear. And here we have the scion of House Lestrange. Dylan, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Dylan through gritted teeth.

"Oh my, so much hostility for one so young," said Voldemort in amusement, looking at the boy with red, pitiless eyes. "Yes, I can see the resemblance. You have Rabastan's eyes. How was your meeting with your father, Dylan? Excited to finally come home?"

"The first person who comes under the purview of family is my brother," said Dylan quietly, clenching his fists. "Home is always where my brother is. I would happily live on the streets if I had him with me. Since Harry is not here, I'm not at home, nor is this my home."

Rabastan frowned as he heard that statement. What did Dylan mean by that? Wasn't the boy happy to be reunited with him, his father?

"How touching … such devotion towards a boy who is not even related to you by blood; don't worry, Dylan. Your brother will be here soon enough. In fact, he was supposed to come here tonight with you, but my servants messed up. I have told them repeatedly not to underestimate Harry Potter, but do they listen?"

Voldemort summoned a silver instrument and placed it on a table next to his throne. Extracting two wands, he placed them on it, getting the readings through a slip of parchment.

"These are your wands, aren't they? Walnut and Dragon Heartstring, twelve and a half inches; Bella, you might want to keep an eye on Miss Greengrass here; both your wands are nearly identical in nature. And you, Dylan, Rowan and Phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches ..."

"Yes, can we please go now?" Dylan winced when his head was shoved down painfully.

"Mind your language around the Dark Lord, Dylan," said Rabastan harshly. "You should be honoured that he is taking time to talk to you at all and is this the way you respond to him? Do you have a death wish?"

"I don't have a death wish, Father, but it is difficult to talk to him when I have nothing to say. I just want to know why we are here."

"You are here so that you can be amongst your family again," said Rabastan angrily. "What's wrong with you, Dylan? I thought you would be more excited and happy in finally meeting us for the first time, but you don't seem to behave that way at all. Do you know how long your Uncle Rodolphus and I have been wanting to see you and talk to you? Is it because of Dumbledore? What did that old bastard do? Has he brainwashed you over the years?"

"I'm not stupid enough to listen to that manipulative old goat," Dylan frowned. "Yes, I have always wanted to meet you, Father, but I also hoped that it would be under better circumstances. I never thought _I_ would be the prisoner."

"You would have preferred _me_ to have been the prisoner instead?" asked Rabastan in disbelief. "Do you take pleasure in your own father being trapped and tortured in a cell in Azkaban?"

"You took pleasure in torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity and trapped them in their minds forever, and then doing the same to my mother, albeit differently. Compared to that, you got off pretty lightly, Father."

"Why you little shit!" snarled Rabastan furiously as he slapped Dylan hard. Dylan didn't utter a sound as fell face-first on the floor. Soft hands picked him up and hugged him protectively. Even though she was sitting on the ground, covered in bloodstains, Daphne managed to retain her regal look as she looked at Rabastan haughtily.

"Tsk, tsk," Voldemort clicked his tongue mockingly. "Such behaviour is quite unbecoming of someone of your station, Dylan. Insulting your own father? What would the world say?"

"The world already calls me all the possible names, so another shouldn't count," said Dylan quietly as he wrapped an arm around Daphne's waist, hugging her closer. "Let us go."

"So soon? I still have a question to ask you. Will you join us, Dylan? Will you take your place at your father's side and become a Death Eater like him, your uncle, aunt and grandfather? Think about the honour that shall be bestowed upon you. Not many can boast of three generations of Death Eaters. You, unlike Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, are not weak. You cannot escape, so don't try it. As for your brother, Harry will also be given a choice to join me. I know that he _will_ join me this time and become a Death Eater. Join me and you both can stand proudly by my side as I conquer the world."

Grey and blue eyes fixed on red as they stared at one another.

"Never," said Daphne quietly and clearly. "My loyalty is to one person only for all eternity and that person is my fiancé. No one else."

"My brother is my life," said Dylan promptly. "I know what you offered him. I know that he turned you down even after you offered him a place as your son. If he did not join you then, he will not join you now. I will _not_ betray my brother."

Voldemort's eyes grew cold. "Even if it means going against your father?" he asked, his anger barely restrained.

Dylan looked at the furious face of Rabastan Lestrange. He had seen the affection in his father's eyes before, but now that the older man realised they were not on the same side, there was only anger – and dare he say it, pain and sadness. Rodolphus didn't meet Dylan's eyes either. All his dreams of spoiling his nephew seemed to be crashing around his ears and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. The Dark Lord's word was law, after all.

"I can live with myself if I go against my father, but I cannot live with myself if I go against my brother."

" _Crucio!_ "

Daphne and Dylan screamed and thrashed around in intense pain, but after ten seconds, the Dark Lord stopped.

"So be it," said Voldemort coldly. "Bella, take them to the dungeons and _convince_ them to make the right choice."

"You're going to accept what he says and allow your own son to be tortured?" asked Daphne angrily, disgust clear on her face as she looked at Rabastan.

"If he really were my son he would not stand against me," spat Rabastan, trying to hide the obvious pain he felt, forcing the tears away. "He's being a rebel and rebellious children are punished, aren't they? Well, I hope Dylan learns his lesson before we talk again and _then_ , if he is willing to make the right choice, I'll accept him as my son!"

"You _disgust_ me," spat Daphne. "And _you_ ," she rounded on Voldemort, her deep blue eyes glowing an eerie white, not showing a hint of fear as she pointed her hand at the Dark Lord threateningly. "Be warned, Voldemort. Harry will come for us. You have made a grave error in kidnapping us. You have already declared your death sentence. I don't know if I will live to see him again, but when he kills you, when you are at the brink of death after Harry conquers you, _remember me_!"

" _Crucio!_ "

Voldemort lowered his wand as he saw the twitching sixteen-year-old girl be led away from the throne room by Bellatrix. How _dare_ she threaten him? Bella would ensure the girl got what was coming to her. Harry would kill him, would he? Well, he would kill Harry Potter _first_! It matters not how useful Harry's loyalty could be for his future plans. He had given the boy a chance to join him and Harry had declined. He had to remember now that Harry Potter was the boy prophesied to kill him. He would not take the chance anymore. The plan to retrieve the prophecy sphere from the Department of Mysteries was not going well, but it was only a matter of time before he would gain access to the Ministry.

Harry Potter would be taken care of as soon as possible. This, Voldemort was sure of. He would kill the boy himself. He was not worried about the boy killing him. His Horcruxes were all safe.

What could a fifteen, nearly sixteen-year-old boy, however talented, do against an immortal, invincible Dark Lord? Nothing and no one could defeat Lord Voldemort!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A golden eagle flew above the skies of Little Hangleton, not really attracting any sort of attention from the people below. It was a mundane eagle, so people didn't really bother with it as it glided over the village. However, to those who could observe it, they would realise that the bird was quite unique. The eyes for one weren't yellow like they were supposed to be – they were a brilliant shade of green. There was also a dark patch in the feathers above its right eye in the shape of a lightning bolt.

The eagle seemed to be searching for something, but it could not find what it was looking for.

After half an hour of gliding over the village, the eagle flew high above the clouds, twisted in a way that should not have been possible for an eagle, and disappeared.

The eagle appeared again suddenly in the sky above Scotland. Descending into the Forbidden Forest, the eagle changed into the form of a teenage boy. The boy was more than six feet tall, had silky jet black hair and cold emerald green eyes. Taking long strides, the boy walked towards Hogwarts Castle as if he were on a mission.

Entering the Slytherin common room without even needing the password, Harry walked towards the rooms of the fifth years and opened the door and entered without invitation.

"Good evening, Draco," said Harry coldly as he stepped into the room. "You and I need to talk."

"About what?" asked Draco, his eye twitching in anger.

He was seething. It was Potter's fault that the mission had failed. If anything happened to his parents, it was because of Potter and his interference. His fist tightened and his knuckles turned white as he tried to control his anger. No, he couldn't attack Potter. The younger boy was too powerful and Draco knew he would stand no chance in a fight with the Potter heir.

"About your loyalty to Voldemort … and the fate you have in store, should you make the right decision. Give me all the information you have on Voldemort's headquarters."

"Why should I help you?" asked Draco, a sneer automatically forming on his face.

He realised his mistake a little too late as he was thrown against the wall painfully. A second later, Draco realised that he was being choked. Harry Potter seemed to be using wandless magic to lift him off the ground, lightly squeezing his throat in the process.

Harry loomed dangerously over the boy as he released his hold on Draco, making the Malfoy scion fall to the hard floor.

"You don't have a choice, _brat_. Answer my question, _now._ Why the Fidelius? I thought Voldemort didn't care for that charm."

"It's not much of a protection, but more of a deterrent," explained Draco, gasping for air after Harry released him. "He doesn't want people actively looking for the place. If it is invisible, how can the enemy even think of launching an attack?"

Harry hummed. "So there are plenty of other protective enchantments in place, I assume?" he asked mildly.

"I don't know what wards he has put up, but I expect there are plenty," said Draco slowly. "But I do know this; those wards were recently installed, so I'm not sure how powerful they are yet."

Harry nodded in understanding. Riddle Manor – even if he could not remember what it was called or where it was – was a Muggle home which meant that there were no ward stones placed underground during construction. It was not designed by a wizarding architect. Voldemort must have done it recently once he realised the advantages he had in having his own manor, even if he hated his Muggle father. The Dark Lord hated depending on everyone, so why should he live at someone else's house when he had his own? Riddle Manor was hardly small. Draco was right. Even if there were lots of protective wards and enchantments, they could be broken by an army. If the army didn't know _where_ to find the manor, there would be no question of launching an attack at all.

"Who is the Secret Keeper? How does it work?" asked Harry quietly.

"Aunt Bella. Whenever a new recruit is brought to the place, they are given a slip of parchment on which the location is written in her handwriting."

"I see," said Harry slowly, stroking his chin as he thought about the possibilities. "Now, let's discuss your recent actions."

Draco palmed his wand, but he found, much to his shock, that he was frozen, magically bound by the younger boy.

"Don't make another mistake, Draco," said Harry, as his eyes darkened. "I understand that you were forced to do this, but don't think that absolves you of your crime. You also had a choice. It was your decision to help that bastard and you helped him kidnap Daphne and Dylan. Your decision led to injury and death. Don't play the pity card in front of me. I'm your cousin through blood and Dylan is your cousin through marriage. Where's the family loyalty, brat?"

"I didn't know of the kidnapping!" said Draco heatedly.

"Maybe so," said Harry coldly. "You know what? Let's make a deal. I'll ensure that you are not sent to prison, or worse, sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. Convincing the Council of Magical Law won't be too hard."

"In return for what?" asked Draco wearily, shuddering at the mere thought of having to spend several years in Azkaban.

"Swear fealty to the House of Potter."

There was a pause for several seconds as Draco looked at Harry as though unable to believe what he had just heard. Recovering, he spat, "Never! The House of Malfoy bows to no one! We won't be anyone's puppet! Besides, I'm not the Head of House for me to swear loyalty to you."

"Is that so?" asked Harry dangerously. "Your family has lost its power, Draco. You yourself said that your father is not valued by Voldemort as before. Your political power is non-existent. You have nothing to back your pride. If Voldemort finds you, you're as good as dead for failing in the mission he assigned to you. Albus Dumbledore is very much alive. Don't be a fool. You are the heir of House Malfoy. Swear fealty to the House of Potter and protect yourself, or trust me, I will make your death _very_ painful indeed."

Truthfully, Harry had no intention of killing Draco, but the threat was enough to make the boy sweat, especially after he had witnessed Harry's fight with Snape. The Malfoy heir was more useful to him alive than dead, especially if he could force the boy to swear fealty to the Potter family.

Such a phenomenon hadn't been seen for more than fifteen hundred years, but Harry was beyond pissed with the Malfoy family. Their actions, starting with Abraxas Malfoy, were what caused this war in the first place. Without his very first Death Eaters, especially Abraxas, Voldemort would never have gained as much power as he had. With Lucius opening the Chamber of Secrets with the help of the diary Horcrux and Draco's role in Daphne and Dylan's kidnapping, Harry didn't feel any remorse in manipulating the boy in front of him. The House of Potter deserved vengeance for being wronged by so many people in recent years.

An hour later, Harry walked out of the Slytherin Common Room, intending to meet his father. His new ally had given him information; information which the Ministry of Magic would find useful.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry watched Elizabeth and Astoria Greengrass weeping in the corner, his heart filled with guilt. Had he not been betrothed to their daughter, Daphne would never have been targeted. He had expected them to blame him, but they had not. Cyrus had only demanded an explanation.

"Voldemort wanted to kidnap Daphne from what we have found out," said Sirius quietly as they sat in his study at Black Manor. "However, given recent attacks, it is clear that his motives were much more than that. He obviously wanted to kidnap Dylan and Harry too, though why I have no idea."

"I know why," said Harry. When they faced him, he said, "Voldemort wants me as a Death Eater. The night of the third task, he actually offered to adopt me as his son, but I declined. He still believes that I can be turned, which was why he went after Daphne. If he holds her prisoner, I would dance like a puppet and through me, he can control you, the Minister of Magic, which is exactly what he is hoping for. Dylan is a different matter. Voldemort knows how strong our bond is and he is also Rabastan's son. It would be a great asset to have Dylan on their side instead of ours."

"Harry found more things in Dumbledore's mind," said Sirius with a grimace. "It appears he knew about the kidnapping attempt on Daphne, but he didn't do anything against it. In fact, he encouraged it when Snape said it could make him more trusted amongst the Death Eaters should they succeed."

"What?" hissed Cyrus angrily. "You mean the old goat knew that Daphne was going to be kidnapped and did nothing? Why?"

"It's all for the greater good, though how he thought he could end the war with Daphne being kidnapped is beyond me," said Harry quietly. "I found out that he sacrificed my parents to end the last war as well. There is a prophecy about me and Voldemort; that's why my parents went into hiding in the first place. He leaked the prophecy to Voldemort through Snape and when my parents were too good at not getting caught, he took the second attack on Potter Manor as an advantage and placed them under the Fidelius Charm with Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper. How did it matter if two adults and an infant died if Voldemort could be defeated as well? How did it matter if the members of the Order of the Phoenix were sacrificed if he could save the general magical and Muggle population from Voldemort's wrath? He is a most effective chess master and yes, his actions did cause Voldemort's downfall, but in the end, he became exactly what he was trying to destroy while telling himself that he was different."

Truthfully, Harry was not really surprised by Dumbledore's actions because deep down, he had suspected it. Thousands of witches and wizards had been killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters and Dumbledore had been desperate. He was leading the war effort so as any effective leader would do, he sacrificed a few to save many. It was no doubt efficient. Just like Voldemort, Dumbledore had been doing everything he could to win the war. His actions were disgusting, betraying people whose loyalty in him was unshakable, but Harry could understand Dumbledore's motives. He may not agree with them, and he may hate Dumbledore for eternity for what he had done to his parents, but he _understood_.

But he would never forgive Dumbledore for leaving him at the Dursleys and raising him like a weapon that was to be deployed and destroyed at the right time. He would never forgive Dumbledore for putting Sirius in Azkaban for ten years when there was no need for it. He would never forgive Dumbledore for the way he sacrificed Daphne, just to protect Snape's rank in Voldemort's inner circle. Harry wasn't lying when he said that he would let the world burn to protect Daphne and Dylan. Yes, some would not consider that to be a good trait, but Harry was not 'good' in the traditional sense when it concerned the people he loved. When he loved, he loved passionately and did not do things halfway. He would get his fiancée and brother back.

A world without Daphne and Dylan was not a world he wanted to live in.

Cyrus clutched his head as tears filled his eyes. "Is there any means by which we can get Daphne back?" he croaked. The only reason he knew his daughter was still alive was because of an ancient blood magic ritual. But even blood was useless in tracking her down and he only hoped that she wasn't badly hurt.

Sirius stroked his chin as he looked out of the window. Ten minutes later, in the bowels of the enormous building that housed the headquarters of the British Ministry of Magic, Sirius opened a black door with a golden handle which led him to the Department of Mysteries.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Daphne groaned in pain as she tried to sit up. Bellatrix was truly a sadistic bitch. Daphne had never felt more pain in her life. She was a mess, with blood all over her robes and a nasty looking gash on her cheek. The sleeves of her robes were ripped and she was still shaking badly from the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. She grimaced as she saw Dylan stir beside her. Carefully helping him sit, she tore a piece of her dress and dabbed the wounds on his face with it.

"We need to find a way to get the hell out of here," muttered Dylan, wincing in pain, a tear flowing down his pale face. He too looked a mess, his shirt ripped in several places with cuts on his face and body.

"I agree," said Daphne quietly. "Wandless magic would keep us alive for a while, but we can't conjure food, only water. I'm not sure if they'll provide food, but it is best if we keep our options open. We only have one other ability left which might help us."

Dylan looked at her curiously. "What is that?"

"How far along are you with the Animagus transformation?"

He sighed in frustration. "I'm so close yet so far away! I know what my form is, but I'm not able to completely transform! Why do you ask?" asked Dylan curiously.

Daphne smirked darkly, the anger clearly visible in her deep blue eyes. "There might be wards that keep witches and wizards in here trapped," she whispered. "But what about animals? Can they keep us in if we turn into animals?"

"Our forms are also lethal," breathed Dylan, realisation dawning on him.

"We both know that Bellatrix would be back for another round," said Daphne grimly. "If we can surprise her and kill her off, we might be able to escape undetected."

"Oh well," said Dylan as he stretched, wincing in pain. "A dangerous plan is better than no plan at all."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A man wearing a large black cloak was prowling around Knockturn Alley. His face was covered by a hood as he walked in long, confident strides. He was here to meet someone. He turned a corner and found the place he was looking for – a shabby pub which looked empty at first glance. Going inside, he ignored the stares as he walked up to the barman.

"I'm here to meet my contact," he said in a low voice. "Identification – _Pureblood 2689_."

The barman nodded. "Walk up the stairs; it's the first room you find on the left," he said gruffly. The man in the hood left a single silver coin on the table which the surprised barman took immediately. Walking up the stairs with supreme confidence, his hands inside the deep pockets of his robes, he came across a door to the left. He knocked on the door once, twice, thrice in a pattern. There was a creak as the door opened automatically.

The man entered without invitation. If he was startled by the ridiculous pink wallpapers and kitten plates, he didn't show it.

"Ah, our newest client," said a very fake, extremely surgery sweet voice. "Identification?"

"Pureblood 2689," said the man smoothly in a deep voice. He looked around and saw that there wasn't a chair for him to sit, so he flicked his wand in a fraction of a second and conjured a comfortable armchair for himself. The wand was out of sight immediately.

"Ah, yes," said the woman. " _Hem, hem_. Your name?"

The man paused. "Wilson, Evan Wilson."

The woman was dressed in a pink cardigan and the sweet expression on her face was clearly fake. The man could see the cold blue eyes, just barely concealed by her cheerful demeanour. She, quite frankly, resembled a large, fat toad. Just looking at her was enough for anyone to hate her and her giggle wasn't helping either.

"I heard from some reliable sources that there are those here who could use my services," said Wilson smoothly. "The source also said that I had to go through you to gain access to the upper levels."

"I'm not sure what you are talking about, Mr Wilson," said the woman sweetly. "I am simply a businesswoman, nothing more. I don't think you are the type of client I would prefer. You may leave."

"What do you take me for, Madam Umbridge?" asked Wilson dangerously and with a swift wave of his wand, she was bound tightly. "I know what sort of business you are running here and I'm not here as your _client_. I want you to help me get in contact with important people. I'm not interested in _you_ ," he said with a sneer.

"Y-You can't do this!" whispered Dolores in fear and anger. "Do you know who I am?"

"An employee of the Improper Use of Magic Office at the British Ministry of Magic," said Wilson with a dark smirk. "The former Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, but that job went down the drain when he got sacked and Minister Black came to power. But I must say, I never expected a prostitution ring ... oh, may Lord Hades have mercy on your soul. What _have_ your parents taught you, my dear? _Crucio!"_

Dolores screamed and screamed but there was no one there to hear her; the wards ensured that. After a sufficient amount of time, knowing that she would not be able to rebel, Wilson pointed his wand at her.

" _Imperio_!"

"You will recommend me to Lucius Malfoy."

Dolores nodded blankly. Once she was done and had sent the letter through owl post, the assassin obliviated her and the barman and walked out of the pub. Sneering at Umbridge's _clients_ , he decided to do something about it.

That pub in Knockturn Alley had been raided that night by the Aurors and many people were arrested, including one Dolores Umbridge, who had been swiftly dozed with Veritaserum, revealing her involvement in the attempted murder of Harry Potter by repeatedly sending Dementors to Nottingham to have him kissed. The victims of the prostitution ring were sent St Mungo's to recover. A plot which had been going on for nearly a decade had been uncovered, just because an assassin named Evan Wilson had needed Umbridge's help to get to Lucius Malfoy.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"It's risky," said Croaker, Head of the Department of Mysteries, frowning. "Are you sure it won't be detected?"

"I'm counting on it, sir," said Harry impassively. "I'm not saying it is foolproof, but at least it isn't something as obvious as a simple glamour or the Polyjuice Potion."

Under Crocker's watchful gaze, Harry stepped in front of a mirror as he pointed his wand at his face and began hissing. The books he had found in the Chamber of Secrets had been very useful, especially the Parseltongue spells. This was an ancient variety of the glamour charm, so Harry was hoping that it could not be detected or countered that easily. The black hair changed to red, the high cheekbones sank lower, the nose shortened, the lips thickened slightly and the eyes turned from green to a darker shade. The skin tone also became darker as he finished his glamour.

"What do you think?"

"I wouldn't recognise you as Harry Potter," Sirius replied after a pause. "Good, I think this should do it. Algernon, give it a try."

Croaker pointed his wand at Harry's face and fired a powerful reversal spell. The glamour didn't budge. "You're right, it works."

"How are we going to communicate?"

"We can't. Communicating with us would put you at risk, but we have found a way to track your movements and listen to what is going on."

The Unspeakable extracted a very small crystal. "We'll put this inside you so that any conventional scans of a Probity Probe cannot detect it. We'll be monitoring you constantly so once you know that you are in trouble, we'll help."

"When you said you're going to put it inside me, what exactly does that mean?" asked Harry; his voice was steady and cold as always, but he seemed wary. He had a bad feeling about this.

Croaker simply raised an eyebrow. "We'll need you to drop your trousers and underwear for that," he said, sounding faintly amused, a hint of a smile forming on his usually stony face.

"I thought so," muttered Harry. "Wait, if you stick it up there, it will come out when you try to remove it, right? I don't want to have a tiny crystal stuck up my arse for the rest of my life."

"It'll be fine," said Croaker dismissively.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one having it," said Harry darkly.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **AN: I know the last few chapters have dark themes thrown in, but I feel it is quite necessary. I wrote this specifically for the development of the characters, so that I may improve upon them after Voldemort's death. Things should look brighter soon.**_

 _ **Thanks for the reviews, everyone!**_


	39. The Final Battle

**_Chapter 39_**

 ** _The Final Battle_**

"Stop it!" hissed Daphne, looking at the woman with as much hate as she could muster. "He's just a thirteen-year-old boy! What has he ever done to you?"

Bellatrix laughed as she observed the twitching boy on the ground. "It's the very fact that he exists, the bastard child of a Mudblood having gained the title of Scion of the Lestrange family."

"Pathetic," spat Daphne, trying to control the shaking of her limbs, ignoring the searing pain in her body. "To think a woman of your age would hold a grudge against a small boy just because you and loser of a husband couldn't have a child!"

 _SLAP_!

A red handprint could be seen on Daphne's pale face as Bellatrix glared at the girl. "Don't you _dare_ insult my husband, Greengrass," she shrieked angrily. "Don't you dare judge Rodolphus without knowing what you're talking about. He loves me more than anyone in the world and I will not allow you to disrespect him! Be warned, do it again and you won't like the consequences. Had you insulted the Dark Lord, I would have killed you on the spot!"

"I will insult anyone who brings pain to my fiancé. I haven't forgotten what you and your husband did to Harry," replied Daphne furiously, pulling Dylan close to her protectively, his head against her bosom. "Dylan is your _nephew_! Killing nameless, faceless people is one thing, but your own _family_? You really are an insane bitch, aren't you, Bellatrix? No wonder the Houses of Black and Lestrange was nearly driven to extinction by having people like _you_ in charge."

"Not another word," said Bellatrix dangerously, her wand pointed at Daphne's forehead, the tip glowing. "Do you know who I am? I am Bellatrix, the eldest daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, one of the most powerful families in all of Magical Europe! I have always known about my responsibility. Do you think I don't care about my family? Open your eyes, Greengrass! You would know the duty of the oldest sibling; I was trained by the elders in the family since I could barely walk! Who do you think taught Sirius everything he knows about politics? It surely was not his parents! Uncle Orion was too focussed on his business ventures and Aunt Walburga only cared about her parties. _I_ took care of him and Regulus since the time they were little boys."

"If Sirius is a successful Minister, it is because of _me_! If Sirius is a powerful wizard, it is because of _me_! If Sirius has as much control over the Ministry and Wizengamot, it is because I taught him everything I knew, trained him since he was a boy, and looked after all my siblings like an elder sister should. I have done my duty to my family, and it pains me every day that my cousin was manipulated into joining the wrong side of the war. Trust me, Albus Dumbledore will _pay_ for what he did to us, causing a rift in the Black family by interfering in our affairs. Andromeda is still alive only because she is my sister, even though she married a filthy Mudblood! This _bastard_ ," she spat at Dylan, "is the son of a Mudblood whore! He is a stain on the noble line of Lestrange, and as the Head of House, it is my duty to get rid of him."

"Not good enough," Daphne sneered at the woman. "Don't rationalize your actions, Bellatrix, because _nothing_ can ever justify your exploits over the years. You honestly don't care about anyone but yourself. You may say that you care about your brother and sister, but if Voldemort ordered you to kill them, you wouldn't hesitate for a second, would you? Why? Because the Dark Lord's word is the law! You wouldn't hesitate to kill Sirius if your master orders you to do it, am I wrong? Where's the love you have towards your cousin then, Bellatrix? You're nothing but a _drone_! You're as good as an Inferius!"

Bellatrix's face contorted in rage, but the insane glint was suddenly back in her eyes. Over the past two weeks, Daphne and Dylan had the _pleasure_ of meeting the woman every day as she tried to _convince_ them to join the Dark Lord. In that time, Daphne had realised that Bellatrix's moods were highly mercurial. She would converse with them for an hour, talking about a variety of subjects, acting as though they were friends, and then start torturing them all of a sudden, feeling a vindictive pleasure in hearing them scream. She seemed quite unbalanced and insane.

If Daphne didn't know better – being the daughter of a Healer made her recognise a few symptoms – she would honestly say that Bellatrix had two personalities within her – one who was probably the _original_ Bellatrix, who was dark, intelligent and yet loved her family passionately, and the second being the insane woman who didn't care about anyone but her husband and the Dark Lord, killing everyone in her path without a second thought. Daphne didn't know when the disorder started, but if what she had heard from Bellatrix's original personality was true, it was due to losing the ability to bear children that started it all. That had traumatized the woman very deeply. Bellatrix should have been in St Mungo's under the care of a mind healer, but of course, for her crimes, she was sent to Azkaban, where the illness only got worse.

Unfortunately for them, it looked like her sadistic part of her personality had suddenly taken over.

"Well, I think it is time for another round, don't you, baby Dylan?" cooed Bellatrix. She cackled when Dylan hid his face behind Daphne. "What about you, _princess_?"

Daphne's breathing quickened as she wondered what she could do. The room they had been provided was very tiny. She didn't even know where in the manor they were. There was a small window in the corner but she knew without a doubt that it was artificial. There were no beds either, forcing her and Dylan to sleep on the hard floor. Only one lone toilet was conjured in the corner and food – if it could be called food – was provided twice a day. Daphne tried her best to look after Dylan, but it was proving to be difficult. Bellatrix was targeting the boy more often than not. She would not let her break him!

"Come on, Dylan," said Bellatrix in a babyish voice, pouting. "Aren't you going to play with Aunt Bella? I'll make it fun, I promise. _Crucio!"_

Dylan braced himself for the spell to hit him, but instead, he heard an unholy scream from Daphne. His eyes snapped open when he saw the older girl in front of him, her arms around him, trying to physically protect him from the curse.

"Oh, look!" said Bellatrix, cackling in delight. "Someone here wants to save little Dylan from the Cruciatus Curse! Lookie, lookie, nephew! You finally found a new Mummy! Your pathetic Mudblood of a mother didn't want you and you settle for a teenage girl instead? Tsk, tsk. Such a sad and _pathetic_ life, isn't it, Dylan? Too bad Daddy Harry isn't here too. Then it would have been a complete family!"

Dylan ignored the mad ramblings of his aunt as he tried to help Daphne off the floor. The bond between the two of them had deepened considerably over the last two weeks. Dylan had always looked up to Daphne, but he had now come to regard her as highly as Harry, his affection for her as much as he felt for his brother. No one other than Harry, Daphne, Sirius and Amelia had done so much for him before and he vowed to protect Daphne by any manner possible as she had done for him.

"A-Are you okay?" he whispered after Bellatrix had left for the day.

Daphne nodded as she rested her head on his shoulder tiredly. Both of them seemed to be running a fever. "Let's continue with our Occlumency exercises," she rasped. "The Animagus transformation is the only option available to us."

"I know," murmured Dylan. Tears pricked his eyes as he croaked, "Thank you, Daphne. Thanks for everything."

Daphne smiled slightly, squeezing his hand. "It is the duty of the older sibling to take care of the younger ones," she said softly. She tried to joke as she said, "At least you aren't as annoying as Astoria."

The mention of his girlfriend brought more tears to Dylan's eyes. The two of them hugged each other tightly as they tried to survive the pain. But their hope in Harry did not fade.

He would come for them. They were sure of it.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Ah, you must be Evan Wilson," said Lucius Malfoy as the tall man walked forward. "The self-proclaimed assassin, welcome to our testing ground. I received a letter from Madam Umbridge about your abilities."

"Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you as well," said Evan, but did not extend his hand in greeting. "I have heard a lot about the Dark Lord and I decided that our goals are similar. I would like to offer my services to him as an assassin, which is why I'm here."

"Your record indicates nothing about your past targets and strengths," said Lucius, staring at the man suspiciously.

"That's my speciality," Evan replied smoothly. "I have taken care of numerous targets for both personal and professional reasons over the last few years, but I have ensured that no one has ever tied them to me. I entered the field quite recently, so I still have time to build my reputation."

"And why should the Dark Lord hire someone who admits that he is inexperienced and new to the job?"

"Because of my talent, Lord Malfoy, my talent. Isn't that why you are testing us here for the next two weeks? My talent in magic should more than compensate for any lack of experience on my part."

Lucius stared at the young man in front of him. Wilson was nothing impressive to look at and he doubted the boy was barely past his late teens. The assassin's record had stated that he was from Sweden, but Lucius couldn't be sure. After all, languages were hardly a problem in the magical world. It was barely an afterthought as there were translation charms and potions to deal with such barriers. He wondered if the young man could even survive the first day of the test, let alone the next two weeks.

"Fine, assemble with the rest of the witches and wizards present," said Lucius coolly. "We still have a few more assassins we're waiting for. We'll begin in an hour."

Evan nodded as he walked towards the two dozen witches and wizards, all of them looking at him as though he were a delicious piece of meat – in other words, young, naïve, and vulnerable.

"Oh, lookie, lookie, everyone," said a witch, cackling with delight. "We have a baby amongst us. What's your name, little one?"

Evan didn't answer as he calmly stared at the night sky.

"Oh, we have a shy one here," said the woman with a pout, but her tone hardened. "What's the matter, dear? Too embarrassed to speak to us? Look at me when I'm speaking to you, brat ..."

Just as her hands reached out to grab his face, Evan's wand was out in a fraction of a second. There was just a pure ripple of magic as a nonverbal torture curse was cast on her, making the woman scream. It wasn't the Cruciatus, but it was still painful. Evan lifted the curse just after a couple of seconds.

"I don't like to socialise," he said coldly. "I prefer to be alone, _bitch_. Try to annoy me again and I'll end your miserable existence."

A non-verbal Blood-Boiling Curse was fired from his wand, missing her by an inch, making the woman yelp in fright. The other assassins backed off, though some of them looked at him challengingly.

There was a crystal suspended in mid-air, observing them. At Riddle Manor, Lord Voldemort watched on his mirror as this boy took on one of the older assassins in Britain in a fraction of a second. The woman might be good, but she was also known for her attitude of backing off, so it wasn't a surprise. What impressed him the most was the sheer confidence and calm nature of Evan Wilson, the youngest of the group of assassins. He decided to keep an eye on the young man.

He watched as Lucius began with the test. First, it was targeting randomly flying disks, with the witch or wizard in a stationary position, in order to check the aim and accuracy of the assassins. Evan Wilson passed the test with a perfect score. Then there was a large box, magically expanded on the inside, within which all of them had to enter and take on deadly challenges for a week and survive in a duel against each other for another week. While all of them were talented, one of them stood out in the Dark Arts section.

There was only one winner – Evan Wilson.

"Lucius, ask him why he wants to serve me," said Voldemort, a small smirk tracing his lipless mouth. Lucius heard his master through the mirror and repeated the question.

"Simple," said Evan coldly. "I hate Muggles and anyone who is willing to get rid of those filthy beasts and has actually done something concrete is worth my respect. The Dark Lord's record is better than anyone else in recent years. I have also heard how insanely powerful he is and I respect true power. I am willing to work for him if he wants me."

Voldemort's smirk widened. Even through the mirror, he could see the clear hatred in the brown eyes of the young man as he spoke about Muggles. Yes, this would do.

"Bring him and the other selected recruits here, Lucius," ordered Voldemort. "It is time we added more talented members to our cause."

"Yes, my Lord," muttered Lucius as he deactivated the mirror.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Get ready, everyone," said Sirius. He looked at the group of the twenty-five of the best witches and wizards in the Auror Corps and the Department of Mysteries, which also included a couple of members of the Order of the Phoenix. "This is it. When we receive the address of Voldemort's headquarters, we attack. Wait for the signal."

Everyone nodded as Sirius went back to listening to what was happening. There was a screen on which a red dot kept flashing every second, alerting them to a location they were monitoring. A crystal was suspended in mid-air from which they could hear what was going on. Unspeakables around him were working religiously, applying finishing touches to a small silver instrument that was puffing and releasing smoke.

"Here you go," said Croaker, giving them a small phial containing a thick red liquid.

Sirius watched intently as the instrument gave out a red puff of smoke.

"It's ready, Minister."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

It had been nearly four weeks since they had been captured and Bellatrix had finally decided that her torture wasn't enough and had decided to experiment on how much more she could do before the two of them snapped. Dylan had cracked under the pressure as he had been unable to take it anymore. Bellatrix had actually bitten on his arm, clawing the word ' _Mudblood_ ' with her teeth. Coupled with her wand and hurtful words, the nearly fourteen-year-old boy had just not been able to handle it.

"I think I'm beginning to enjoy this," said Bellatrix as she cackled. Licking her lips, she looked at Daphne. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. If little baby Dylan can crack, so can you! I can't wait to see the proud princess cry. It brings such warmth to my heart."

Grinning at Dylan's crying form, Bellatrix left the room singing, "I'm going to kill my nephew, yay!"

Daphne moved over to Dylan as she tried to help up, but his body was too weak and his spirit crushed. Bellatrix had used all of Dylan's weaknesses and insecurities against him to work her way to his heart as she crushed it. She didn't even have to raise her wand - her words were enough to cause such damage.

"Dylan, Dylan, please," said Daphne pleadingly as she helped him up, hugging him tightly. "Don't listen to her. You're not alone, you know that. There are people who love you. You have Harry, Astoria and I who love you, Dylan, don't listen to her!"

But Dylan didn't stop crying. "She's going to kill me," he sobbed. "I can't take it anymore, Daphne, I really can't take it anymore. I just want it to end. I want to go home! I want to see Harry again. I want to see Uncle Sirius and Aunt Amelia again. I miss them all so much! I want to be with my family. I want my life to go back to the way it was before all this started. Why am I always alone? Why doesn't anyone want me?"

"Dylan!" snapped Daphne angrily. "She's saying that to purposely needle you, can't you see that? I'm still here! Harry will rescue us, don't lose hope!"

"I've been a failure at everything. I couldn't protect myself, I couldn't fulfil my promise to Harry to always keep you safe, I couldn't be a good son to my father, and – and – Bellatrix was right! I don't deserve to live!"

Daphne was terrified of what she was hearing. Did the torture finally get too much for Dylan? Was it affecting his mind?

"Dylan, please ... DYLAN!"

She sent a wandless stinging hex to his cheek, making him double over in shock. "Don't give up!" she said firmly, cupping his face. "We're going to survive this, understood? We're going to survive! _Say it_!"

"We're going to survive," repeated Dylan quietly.

"Yes," said Daphne, sitting in a meditative posture. "We _will_ survive. We _have_ to survive. We are going to prevail. We _will_ escape."

She wouldn't let him give up now ... not when they were this close.

Daphne's body began to change. Her skin darkened as fur began to form on her body. It was yellowish-orange in colour with black stripes. Her hands changed to form paws, but her face remained human.

Dylan began to transform too. His body was slowly being covered in grey fur with patches of brown here and there. The fur on his hands and legs were completely brown, matching the colour of his hair. His ears began to change too, becoming pointier. His teeth elongated until the canines were sharper, but he too didn't fully change.

They were both close. It was only a matter of time before they could fully transform.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Evan Wilson adjusted the basilisk hide vest he was wearing under his robes. There were a dozen assassins here along with him being taken to Voldemort. They were certainly not the top quality assassins, but they would prove to be effective Death Eaters for any sort of magical fight. Essentially, they were cannon fodder, just like the rest of the lower level Death Eaters Voldemort didn't care about. They were the ones on the front lines fighting for what they thought was for the Dark Lord, only not realising that the Dark Lord didn't care about them at all. The inner circle was the one filled with exceptional warriors like the Lestranges, Rowle, Rosier and Dolohov; Ministry workers like Macnair, Carrow and Yaxley; highly talented people like Rookwood and Severus Snape; and political people like Malfoy, Nott, Avery; and finally, those who were there purely for a specific purpose and yet didn't really contribute much like Pettigrew, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle.

Evan tightened the hood around his neck as they walked. They had been taken to different places via Portkey before being brought here. He was not surprised. Until they were all marked or inspected by Voldemort, they were a threat. They were taken to a forest clearing where they were fully inspected for any magical tracking devices on them.

"I'll be taking you to the Dark Lord's manor," said Lucius in a superior tone. "Remember that you are to kneel before the Dark Lord when he approaches you; never speak unless spoken to and do not make eye contact unless he demands it. If you make any unnecessary move, you would be killed before your wand can clear its holster."

Evan's face remained impassive and so were the faces of the other assassins. It was their line of work; they knew not to antagonise their prospective employer or client.

"Read this and memorise it," said Lucius, giving them a piece of parchment. "Pass it around once you are done."

Evan stood at the very end of the line as he watched the piece of parchment being passed around quickly. Just before it reached him, he cast a wandless charm to cause a small diversion so that Lucius' attention would not be fixed on him. In a couple of seconds he had managed to get the man distracted, he wandlessly switched the piece of parchment containing the address in Bellatrix's handwriting to another similar looking piece which was fake. Since Lucius already knew the secret, he shouldn't recognise the difference in the switch.

Not yet anyway.

Evan squeezed his fist. A house-elf appeared silently in the clearing and took the piece of parchment which was in Evan's pocket. The elf disappeared just as silently before anyone noticed its presence.

There were a dozen cracks as they all Disapparated from the clearing.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Master Sirius, Twinkie did as ordered. This is the piece of parchment that was in the wizard's pocket," said the elf as she passed the piece of parchment to Sirius.

"Thank you, Twinkie, that is all," said Sirius quickly as he took it. Reading it, he was able to picture Riddle Manor sitting innocently on top of a hill in Little Hangleton.

The Fidelius Charm had been compromised.

"Pass it around," he said to Croaker who read it himself before passing it to the rest.

"Form up!" barked Moody. "Divide into teams. Team Alpha, with me!"

"Team Beta, with me," said Croaker.

"Team Gamma, with me," said Amelia.

"Team Delta, with me," said Sirius quietly as his team assembled.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Well, well, well," said Bellatrix in a babyish voice as she walked towards the dungeons. "It looks like it is time for my daily _session_ with our little babies! Oh! Who knew I would think of myself as a mind healer?" she said as she cackled with laughter. Oh, she was so amusing and she knew it!

She looked at the door to the room where Dylan and Daphne were imprisoned.

"Look out, look out, baby Dylan," she cooed. "Aunt Bella is here to kill you! And today she's going to take little Daffy too! Oh look, that rhymes!"

Bellatrix grinned sadistically as he flicked her wand and opened the door. Closing it, she turned, only for her eyes to widen in shock for an instant as a massive tigress pounced on her. A large grey wolf, much bigger than any mundane wolf came up to her other side and bit the arm clean off where she was holding the wand. Bellatrix screamed as her neck and arm broke in half, partially severed from her body, and she fell to the ground. Blood was pouring from her wounds and onto the floor.

"I never thought it would work," said Dylan, breathing hard, covered in blood.

"It wouldn't have if we hadn't acted so soon," said Daphne as she checked Bellatrix's body. "We only had a second to pounce on her, otherwise she would have killed us. She wasn't expecting any sort of attack and her overconfidence helped us, nothing more. Dylan! Look at this!"

"Our wands!" Dylan grinned. "It was so nice of Aunt Bella to keep them safe for us. Now let us get out of here."

"Wait, not yet," said Daphne quickly. She tapped her wand on top of Dylan's head until he was nearly invisible. She did the same to herself too.

"Disillusionment charm," she explained. "It may not work very effectively, but it should help us be inconspicuous."

"Good idea," said Dylan. They transformed into their animal forms and carefully crawled out of the dungeons, hoping there were no anti-Animagus wards.

There weren't.

Who expected two teenagers who were locked in a dungeon for four weeks with little food and constant torture – with no means of a wand – to become Animagi and escape?

Overconfidence had always been the downfall of great men and women in history. And history was about to repeat itself.

 _Karma ..._ that was the word to describe Bellatrix Lestrange as she died a painful, agonizing death several minutes later, ignored by everyone in the world.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Thirty men and women Apparated to the village of Little Hangleton and slowly moved forward, applying Disillusionment charms in the process. They could view their target.

"Teams Alpha and Gamma, you are to engage any resistance we find outside and then make your way through," said Croaker through his magical communications device. "Team Beta will work on the wards around the manor. Team Delta, be prepared to sneak in."

"Yes, sir."

"All teams report ready."

"Begin Operation Gatecrash," said Sirius, his eyes hard as steel.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Lord Voldemort stroked his wand with his long fingers as he observed the newest group of would-be Death Eaters. His eyes were not on them all though. No, he was searching for one particular person. This person had power, talent, and a strong hatred for Muggles – the perfect candidate for a future inner circle member. He would need such skills if he were to get rid of people like Sirius Black in the future.

All the witches and wizards assembled got down to their knees, just as they were instructed.

"Welcome, witches and wizards," said Voldemort silkily. "I have observed you all over the past two weeks and I am impressed with your skills. You all have shown the ability needed to become Death Eaters. The mark I shall bestow upon you would be the greatest honour of your lives. You will wear it with pride as it a mark that shows who you serve – Lord Voldemort. The ceremony will begin in a few hours, but first, I would like to talk to one of you."

"Alone," finished Voldemort, smirking at the youngest in the group. "Evan Wilson, stay behind. The rest of you may leave."

Evan rose to his feet as the rest of them cleared the room. Once only he and Voldemort were inside, he squeezed his hand tightly.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Algernon, it is nearly time," said Sirius through the tiny communication mirror studded in his earlobe. "How much longer?"

"It's nearly done, Sirius," said Croaker as he twisted his wand in a long, fluid motion, pointing it towards a silver instrument. This was the ward interference device which Sirius had given the Department of Mysteries after the attack on Potter Castle. Harry hadn't been lying when he had told Dumbledore that Voldemort had destroyed it remotely, but because of the distance between Riddle Manor and Potter Castle, it had not worked as well as it should have. The Unspeakables at the Department of Mysteries were able to repair the device and using Harry's blood, they were using the device to interfere with Voldemort's hold of the protective enchantments around Riddle Manor.

"The wards have been punctured," said Croaker through his communications device. "All teams stand by! Teams Beta and Delta, prepare to infiltrate the manor. Teams Alpha and Gamma, prepare to engage the enemy outside."

Sirius waited. Any second now ...

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"I must say, I'm curious about you, Evan," said Voldemort, his red eyes not leaving the face of the younger boy. "You're quite talented. But I'm more curious about your tale of why you hate Muggles."

"Oh, I hate Muggles alright," spat Evan. "It's because of my childhood, really. I grew up in an orphanage amongst those filthy beasts and I was abused because of my powers. But the reason I ended there was because of this _Mudblood_. I assume we will eradicate Mudbloods too, my Lord?"

"My record should prove that, Evan," said Voldemort with an arrogant smirk.

"This _Mudblood_ was the son of a Muggle and a squib," said Evan. "He was a good friend of mine, to be honest. I really looked up to him as he taught me many aspects of magic. But this _Mudblood_ didn't remain that way for long. He let his fears overrule his common sense and I suffered as a result. This _Mudblood_ also made a fatal mistake. He took something which I consider to be the most precious to me. _You_ , Lord Voldemort, are nothing more than a _filthy Mudblood and a rabid dog_ and I'm going to reclaim the two people you stole from me."

Voldemort's eyes widened as the boy's features melted and changed right in front of his eyes. Red hair turned raven black, the cheekbones became higher and more pronounced, the lips thinned slightly, the skin tone lightened, the nose straightened and the brown eyes changed to vivid, emerald green. The unimpressive looking Evan Wilson was gone, to be replaced by the handsome face of Harry Potter.

Neither of them waited even for a fraction of a second. The wands slashed in the air as the battle began.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"ATTACK!" shouted Sirius. The team of witches and wizards behind him followed as they burst through the front doors of Riddle Manor and began firing spells at all the Death Eaters they could see. The Death Eaters began fighting back and those who were guarding outside called for reinforcements. Soon, there was a battle being waged outside and inside the manor.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The tigress and wolf stopped as they heard noises. Just then, they saw Rookwood running towards the entrance, his wand drawn as he spotted the attackers.

" _Avada K_ –" said Rookwood, but he couldn't finish it before the tigress and wolf attacked him. Daphne again pounced on his back and twisted his neck, biting hard, while Dylan took care of the wand arm. Within a minute, Rookwood was disarmed and dead.

The two animals growled as they ran forward. The Ministry of Magic had arrived. Turning back into their human forms, they drew their wands as they joined the battle.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Inside the throne room, the battle was deadly. Spells of every variety were flying everywhere as Harry and Voldemort battled for dominance. Voldemort was shocked that Harry had infiltrated his lair and actually fooled him for two weeks! But then again, he had never actually seen Harry duel before, so there was no way to recognise the fighting style.

"You shouldn't have come here, Harry," taunted Voldemort as he fired several Killing Curses at the boy. "You won't get out of here alive."

Harry said nothing as he fired several curses with two wands in hand. Held in his right was the Elder Wand, the so-called most powerful wand in existence. He had learnt a lot from accessing Dumbledore's memories and his new position as the master of the Deathstick was something he was curious about. In his left hand was his loyal Yew and thunderbird feather wand, as he used duel-casting to the best of his ability. After just a few minutes, Harry realised that the Elder Wand did carry a unique power. The spells coming from it were more powerful than Harry had ever seen before. Pure ripples of magic were all that he could see, a testament to the amount of control and power Harry had through the wand. Harry felt as though the Elder Wand was connected to him in a way he had never realised before.

The walls and roof of the manor were being blown to bits as they fought. The wood was transfigured into daggers which went flying at Voldemort, those of which were again transfigured into jet black serpents that Harry blasted to smoke. More animals were being conjured and the room was filled with attacking tigers, wolves, crocodiles, snakes and any other lethal creature or instrument. This was Transfiguration, Charms and Offensive Magic at its best. Just then, Voldemort released a large snake made of fire.

"You can't go against this, Harry!" yelled Voldemort as he laughed, the Fiendfyre Basilisk snarling behind him.

Harry slashed his wand as he released an almighty gust of wind, forming multiple tornadoes. The twisters appeared and surrounded the Fiendfyre snake, forcing Voldemort to recall the deadly fire. Harry immediately acted as he trapped Voldemort in the tornado, trying to control him, but the Dark Lord escaped, banishing the tornado back at Harry who disfigured it, completely destroying the manor and parts of the village around them. The Aurors and Death Eaters all fled outside, trying to save themselves from the debris and flying spells. While it was true that the Death Eaters were skilled, there were only three inner circle members left – Lucius, Rodolphus and Rabastan. The others were just not well trained yet, so the Aurors were able to gain the high ground.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"You can't dodge me forever, Greengrass," snarled Rodolphus. "You'll pay for this! You killed my wife, didn't you?"

"I'll kill anyone who dares to harm the man I love," spat Daphne as she danced around him, avoiding the curses. "You should never have tortured Harry in the first place!"

"That filthy half-blood was asking for it," yelled Rodolphus. His eyes darkened in hatred as he looked at the girl who reminded him even more of his dead wife. It didn't take a genius for him to figure out what had happened to Bellatrix. The fact that she was not here fighting for the Dark Lord had clued him in and the blood all over Greengrass' robes was an indication that the girl and his nephew must have killed her before they escaped the dungeons. The loss of the family bond with his wife was the ultimate proof that he needed.

Daphne used a wide range of Charms, her speciality, as she did her best to bring Rodolphus down, but the older man was very skilled as well. Finally, just as she managed to distract him for a second, she transformed into a tigress and pounced on him.

Rodolphus' last thought was that he was going to join his wife before the massive jaws ripped his neck from his body, killing him in seconds.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"I can't believe you would betray your own father," spat Rabastan angrily. "I gave you a chance to join me, Dylan, and you do _this_?"

"I have no father," yelled Dylan as his spells got deadlier. "My father is dead to me. _I'm an orphan!_ My father would never have allowed me to be tortured every day for four weeks!"

Rabastan dodged the spells and upped his attack. "I was only trying to show you where you went wrong," he said furiously. "The Dark Lord is all-powerful! He would one day be the ruler of not only Britain but the whole world! Don't be a fool, Dylan! Come to your senses!"

"There is only one person who could ever be the ruler of the world," shouted Dylan. "And his name is _Harry Potter_! Not that snake-faced loser you call a master!"

Rabastan's eyes were slits of fury at the insult to his Lord. "Potter! Potter! _Potter_! If you love Harry Potter so much, then go join your so-called brother in misery! _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The curse sped towards Dylan who dodged it, but it was still too close. The spell missed him by less than an inch. His grey eyes darkened, glowing eerily. He transformed into a wolf and howled in anger and pain of betrayal at his own father trying to kill him. Rushing towards Rabastan, dodging curses with more speed than any human, Dylan latched on to Rabastan's neck and yanked on it, biting hard. Blood dripped from Rabastan's neck as it snapped, but not before a dark cutting curse impacted the wolf.

Blood poured out of both man and wolf as they fell to the ground. Rabastan looked at the grey eyes of the wolf and his heart clenched in guilt. He shouldn't have done that. He had attempted to use the Killing Curse on his own son! And now, he had accidentally fired another spell that was slowly killing the boy.

In his final moments, he realised that he had been a terrible father. He had been given a chance to get to know his son, but he had blown it, putting the Dark Lord ahead of his responsibility to Dylan. Worst of all, he had allowed his sister-in-law to torture his own son for nearly a month.

Rabastan felt disgusted with himself. Oh, life was so unfair ... he was so close to death and he couldn't make amends with his son whom he had wronged so terribly. He hadn't even told the boy how proud of him he was, and how much he truly cared about Dylan. Tears pricked his eyes as he placed a hand on the grey wolf. Summoning all the strength he had, he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Dylan," choked Rabastan to the large, injured wolf as he felt his life leaving him. "I failed you. Please forgive me."

The wolf whimpered in pain as Rabastan breathed his last. A few seconds later, caring hands took him in their arms. "Don't worry. We'll get you help soon."

Daphne was a mess too with blood all over her face and robes. She had several cuts on her face, but right now she was worried about the boy she had come to regard as her own brother.

"Hang in there Dylan," she whispered as she closed her eyes and turned on the spot, both human and wolf Disapparating with a _crack_.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry gasped as a cutting curse grazed his throat, drawing more blood. He was wounded badly. He had performed rituals to strengthen his body, making him heal much faster, but they were all weak as compared to what Voldemort had done to his body. He and Voldemort had been constantly duelling and Harry had lost track of time. Riddle Manor and parts of Little Hangleton were now nothing more than rubble. Unknown to each of them, Harry and Voldemort had just beaten the previous record of the longest and deadliest duel in wizarding history – the previous record which was held by Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald for their duel fifty years ago. This duel was for the history books.

Both Harry and Voldemort were feeling the strain of the duel now. They had transfigured everything possible around them, had charmed their environment to attack them, had cursed the life out of each other, yet both were not willing to give up. Harry did not notice a large snake slithering behind him, too focused on the battle.

Voldemort smirked, but Harry heard the angry hiss at the last second and dodged. The fangs impacted his shoulder instead of his neck. Snarling in fury, Harry slashed his wand and cut off Nagini's head in one swift motion, destroying the final Horcrux. Pain was spreading throughout his body as the venom infected him but Harry was not done as he fired another powerful blasting curse, destroying the Dark Lord's wand arm in the process. Voldemort looked furious, especially at the death of Nagini, but he realised that staying here was futile. Pushing himself up, he shot off into the sky, flying without the help of a broom. It was a common misconception that a witch or wizard needed a broom to fly. Just like wandless magic, broomless flight could be achieved too.

Harry, not yet having fully mastered the art of broomless flight, transformed into an eagle and flew after Voldemort. If the Dark Lord managed to breach the anti-Apparition wards, then all their efforts would be futile. He had to be killed.

Voldemort heard an eagle shriek. Just as he turned around to investigate, the sharp talons of the eagle clawed his face. Transforming in mid-air, Harry plunged Gryffindor's sword into Voldemort's skull, killing him instantly.

Then the two of them fell.

"Catch them!" screamed Amelia as she saw Harry fall with Voldemort, but it was too late.

Harry crashed to the ground. The Sword of Gryffindor was stuck in Voldemort's head as he looked back at everyone with lifeless red eyes, his body broken and mutilated.

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been killed by the boy who was prophesied to kill him. It was all over. They had won the war.

"Give me a Portkey; we need to get him directly to St Mungo's critical area! Quickly!" yelled Amelia. She checked for a pulse; it was very weak. Blood was pouring from Harry's head and other places in his body. He was losing blood at a rapid rate as the venom infected him. She grabbed onto him and disappeared in a flash of blue light along with another Auror.

Sirius limped forward, wiping the dirt and blood from his forehead. "Status report," he rasped out.

"We've captured all the Death Eaters who are alive," said Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt in a low voice. "We lost six Aurors, Minister. Remus Lupin is also dead."

Sirius closed his eyes in sorrow. Even if he had not been close to Remus over the last few years, they had been best friends for a long time before that.

"Take the bodies to the Ministry morgue and bring all the wounded to St Mungo's," said Sirius quietly. "Place a security detail around Voldemort's corpse. Contact the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes; get the Obliviators to modify the memories of the Muggles here and get them to repair any damage to the village too. Instruct everyone that none of them is to talk to the media without my express permission. I'll be at St Mungo's. I need to be with my family."

Seeing Kingsley nod, Sirius Disapparated with a _crack_.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I never planned on keeping Rabastan alive, but I did want him to feel guilty, at least for what he did to Dylan. That doesn't mean Rabastan felt guilty about everything else; he is still the same bloodthirsty Death Eater. It is only with regard to his son that he felt bad._**

 ** _And we finally come to the chapter where Voldemort is killed. I tried to make it as realistic as possible, without making Harry super-powered. He is an extremely powerful wizard, but so was Voldemort, and that should not be forgotten._**

 ** _As for Bellatrix, I'm not sure how they grew up in canon, but here, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus all grew up together like siblings. If you have observed in my previous chapters, Sirius always refers to her as 'Bella'. It was not expressly mentioned, but I wanted to show how the five Blacks shared a deep bond, and how it was all destroyed because of Voldemort. What do you think of Bellatrix's multiple-personality disorder? I really wish Neville would have killed her in the end instead of Molly Weasley in Book 7. It would have been fitting. Oh well!_**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	40. Awakening of the Clan

**_Chapter 40_**

 ** _Awakening of the Clan_**

Magical Britain celebrated the death of Lord Voldemort and the end of the war with great happiness. Fireworks exploded all over the country as they had in 1991 with celebrations everywhere. People were happy that there would be no more destruction and that their lives could go back to normal at last. The common wizarding public could not even comprehend the fact that the Minister of Magic himself had been personally involved in the effort to bring down Voldemort. They were so used to having incompetent leaders for so long and listening to empty words from Albus Dumbledore that it was quite a shock to have a leader who took action, involving himself and his family personally. But people were also worried. They were worried about their greatest hero; the boy who had finally killed Lord Voldemort.

The wizarding public was worried for one Harry James Potter.

The nearly sixteen-year-old wizard had been at St Mungo's Hospital for a week since the battle and had not yet regained consciousness, having been placed in a medically induced coma. He had been very badly injured while duelling Voldemort and that was not just due to the curses which had impacted him. He was also bitten by a snake whose venom was quite unique, so it took the healers some time to diagnose and treat him. Then there were the various broken bones, damaged organs and internal bleeding caused due to Harry and Voldemort crashing to the ground. Ancient healing rituals were being performed by druids publicly while various witches and wizards participated, all praying to Mother Magic to heal their beloved saviour.

Of course, the public had also not forgotten the newest heroes in town – Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange, the two kidnapped teenagers who together managed to kill the feared and notorious Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. There was an outpouring of sympathy towards them for having to brave Bellatrix's torture every day for a month. The fact that Daphne Greengrass had actually threatened Voldemort to his face had created a feeling of awe in the younger generation, especially girls, though more attention of the girls was now being directed at the cute boy who was now a hero – Dylan Lestrange. It was strange how they were willing to change their tune after the public realised on which side of the war Dylan had truly been, having called him all the possible names just several months ago for being the son of Rabastan Lestrange.

Not that both of them cared. In fact, neither Daphne nor Dylan had stepped out of St Mungo's since they had been healed. They were sitting in the private hospital suite, waiting for Harry to recover. They were not the only ones there. Cyrus, Elizabeth and Astoria Greengrass were there too. Sirius and Amelia had not been able to concentrate on their work either, as they went to St Mungo's five times a day to check on his progress. Little Rigel Black had been inconsolable. He didn't understand what was going on, but he could see that his oldest brother was not well, and that made him cry.

The healers had assured them that Harry would be fine and that he needed more time to heal, but to them, they wouldn't believe it until Harry woke up from the coma. The celebratory cheer had never existed for them as they waited for Harry to wake up and smile at them again.

All of them would have done anything to see the vivid emerald green eyes look at them again, the usual twinkle of amusement present whenever the boy was happy.

 _Wake up, Harry. Wake up._

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Emerald green eyes blinked open slowly as they adjusted to the darkness of the room. Harry Potter groaned softly as he felt the ache in his muscles. He looked around and saw that he was in a large hospital suite. The last time he had been here, it had been right after Sirius had been released from Azkaban four and a half years ago. The first thing he realised was that there was someone sitting on a chair next to him, holding his hand. He smiled slightly as he saw the dark blonde hair of his fiancée. There was also someone on the couch opposite to him, but he couldn't make out clearly. He would bet his life that it was Dylan.

Harry raised his hand as he slowly stroked Daphne's soft hair, waving his other hand casually as he cast a privacy charm around them. Tears stung his eyes as he saw her stir. Daphne slowly woke up and in the dim light, saw who was stroking her hair. She blinked in shock for several moments, but once she recovered, a bright smile formed on her face as she climbed on the bed next to him and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you, Daphne," said Harry in a choked voice as silent tears trickled down his face. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry it took so long to rescue you. How are you? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine, don't worry," whispered Daphne as she stroked his face lovingly, wiping the tears away. "How are you feeling? You've been unconscious for more than a week. You were very badly injured and the healers had to place you in a medically-induced coma to make you heal."

"A coma?" asked Harry in surprise. "Huh. I guess that stunt of transforming mid-air was not a good idea after all. That stupid snake bit me! He is dead, right?"

"Yes, Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters have all been captured or killed and the war is over. Oh, Harry, you gave us quite a scare!"

Their lips brushed against each other adoringly for several seconds, becoming deeper as they went on. Harry wrapped his arm around her waist as he pulled her closer, kissing Daphne passionately. After more than a minute, they broke apart, gasping for air.

"Where's Dylan?" asked Harry, looking at the form on the couch. "Is that him?"

"Yes, that's Dylan," said Daphne quietly. "But not in a state that you might think."

Harry felt as though his insides were suddenly made of ice. "Daphne, what happened to my brother?" he said in a low voice, his eyes darkening. "What did they do to him?"

"He's fine, Harry, physically," said Daphne sadly. "We finished our Animagus transformation during captivity and killed Bellatrix when she came down to the dungeons to kill us. We escaped and joined the fight. I killed Rodolphus while Dylan – he – he killed Rabastan. He was injured in the process, but I Apparated him to St Mungo's immediately, so the healers were able to save him. But ... I think killing his father has affected him very badly. Complicating the matter was you being in a critical condition for several days. Let's just say that Dylan didn't take it well."

The lighting charms glowed a little brighter and Harry could see the large grey wolf sleeping on the couch.

"He prefers to stay in his animal form, maybe because he can control his emotions better that way. The first time he saw your mother, he didn't let go of her for nearly an hour; he was so tired that he fell asleep in her arms. For the next few days at the hospital, Amelia stayed here with him every night because he refused to let her go. Like you, he has started addressing Sirius and Amelia as his mum and dad. When she and Astoria aren't around, he stays in his wolf form, refusing to leave your side. In fact, your mother, Astoria and I are the only ones who can even get him to eat something because he doesn't listen to anyone else. He rarely talks to anyone. He's in pain, Harry, but as I said, not physically. He's been visiting a mind healer, but I don't think it's helping all that much."

Harry looked at the wolf with sad eyes. There was a reason Dylan was a wolf. He emphasised a lot on family and close friendships and cherished them. For someone like that who always referred to Rabastan Lestrange as his father ever since he had found out about him, even in the direst circumstances like when he had argued with Ron Weasley in front of the entire Order of the Phoenix, to have actually killed the man, was probably eating him alive.

"Are you sure you're okay?" whispered Harry as he stroked Daphne's cheek. "Did Voldemort or Bellatrix torture you?"

Daphne's silence and downcast eyes answered his question. Pulling her to his chest, Harry hugged her tightly, breathing in her familiar scent as he closed his eyes, listening to Daphne's story as she recited what had happened during their stay at Riddle Manor.

"I actually threatened Voldemort to his face," muttered Daphne. "I told him that he may torture me or kill me, but that didn't matter. I told him that someday you would come to avenge me; that Voldemort would have no place to run and would die by your hand. I don't think he liked that."

"There is a time and place for everything and threatening a Dark Lord who held you captive was very reckless. Brave, but reckless."

"He pissed me off! And you know very well how I get when I'm angry, especially if someone has wronged you!"

"Don't I know it?" said Harry wryly. "I've taken the brunt of your anger several times and so have people who have insulted me in the past. A tigress on the streets _and_ in the sheets, aren't you?"

" _Harry_!"

"Oh, come on, Daph! You know how wild you are in bed! It's nothing to be embarrassed about! I certainly enjoy it. "

Daphne groaned as she buried her face in his chest, face pink with embarrassment. Harry chuckled in amusement, kissing the top of her head affectionately.

"I'll go outside and tell everyone that you're awake," she said quietly after a few minutes. "It'll give you some privacy."

"Thanks, Daphne," Harry said softly. He slowly got up from his bed and moved towards the couch as he heard her slip out of the room. Gently stroking the wolf's head, he said, "Hey little brother. Wake up. It's me."

The wolf's ears perked up as it heard the familiar voice. The grey eyes looked intently at Harry as it pounced on him, licking his face excitedly. Harry laughed as he tried to push the wolf off of him.

"Cut it out, brat, that tickles," Harry grinned. "Look at you! You're a wolf. I'm so proud of you, Dylan."

The wolf whimpered at the compliment as it turned away.

"I want to talk to you. Will you please transform for me? After you hear what I have to say, I won't stop you if you want to go back to looking like that."

The wolf looked at him for several seconds until there was a pop and a haggard-looking Dylan Lestrange was looking back at him.

"Harry!" Dylan whispered in a choked voice as he threw his arms around his older brother's neck, hugging him tightly. "You're safe! I'm so sorry. I should have been careful back in Hogsmeade. Had I been more alert, none of this would have happened. I –"

"Shut up, Dylan," Harry snapped angrily. "Don't you dare blame yourself, you hear me? I will never stand for it. You exceeded my expectations in every way and I am proud of you! I consider myself blessed to have you as my little brother and I would be damned if you start blaming yourself for all this. Voldemort organised the attack specifically to capture you and Daphne. You fought with all you had and I'm proud of you and not for a second would I blame you for getting kidnapped, okay? Stop blaming yourself."

Dylan nodded as he buried his face in Harry's chest as the tears started anew. All the guilt and frustration developed over the past month came crashing down on him as he cried. He had tried to bury his emotions until now, but it was no use. He was only prolonging the inevitable. Safe now in his brother's arms, Dylan let the emotions out.

Harry rubbed his back soothingly as he rocked the younger boy, trying to calm him down while negating the wild magic Dylan was throwing around the room. The boy was clearly more distressed than he had let on.

"I killed him, Harry," whispered Dylan, his voice trembling with guilt. "I killed my father. All it took were a few seconds of furious rage and I acted on impulse and – and – I _killed_ him."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Dylan looked away. "We had just escaped from inside the manor which was falling all around us because of that large fire snake and tornados. Daphne and I had been together the whole time as we fought our way out. Suddenly, I found myself fighting with Father and I could tell that he was surprised to see me. He said that I had betrayed him by duelling against my own father. I – I said that my father was dead, that I was an orphan. When he said that Voldemort was all-powerful, I said that _you_ were all powerful. I guess he got angry when I insulted his master because the next thing I knew, he fired a Killing Curse at me."

Harry tightened his hold on Dylan. "It missed me by an inch because I thought for sure I was done for. I transformed into my animal form as I couldn't handle the pain of my father trying to kill me just because I had insulted Voldemort. Shouldn't his priority have been me and not that snake-faced loser? I – I guess I couldn't control myself. I was too angry so I charged at him and – and – and I snapped his neck."

"Shh, it's alright," said Harry quietly as another tear slipped down the boy's cheek.

"If it had ended at that, I wouldn't be feeling this guilty," Dylan continued as he choked on a sob. A part of him was mortified that he was sitting on his brother's lap, bawling like a five-year-old, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"He accidentally fired a curse that formed cuts all over my body, so I collapsed next to him. I knew that he was going to die, but I was in pain too. But – but just before he died, he said – he said that he was sorry, said that he had failed me, and asked me for forgiveness. There was always good in him, Harry, so why did I have to kill him? I'm such a failure! I failed him as a son!"

"Of course there was good in him, Dylan," Harry muttered as he hugged his brother tightly.

This was not the time to say anything otherwise. Rabastan was still the same man who had committed unforgivable crimes in the course of his life, but Harry wasn't about to say that to his brother. Dylan was traumatized and if the boy wanted to think there had been even a spark of good in Rabastan, then that's how it was going to be.

"He may have done all those heinous crimes, but he was still human. The bond between a father and son was always there between you and Rabastan. That's the beauty and wonder of magic. He may have allowed Bellatrix or Voldemort to torture you because of his loyalty to them, but when he tried to kill you, he was overcome by guilt. You did not fail him, Dylan. He never fulfilled his role as a father, partly because he was never there for you when you grew up. Even then, he still cared about you. After knowing who your father was, not once have you addressed Rabastan as anything but the term 'Father'. That shows that you have not failed him. You accepted him as your father. True, you were not on the same side of the war, but – that's life, Dylan. It's not fair."

"If life was fair, my parents would never have died," said Harry softly. "Look at everything that has happened in our lives. My parents were betrayed by Dumbledore and Pettigrew, two people they thought they could trust with their lives. Dad was sent to Azkaban and had to brave the Dementors for ten years because Dumbledore wanted him gone. Mum's entire family except for one brother, including little children, were killed because Voldemort wanted them gone. You and I grew up in horrible environments and had crappy childhoods – all this shows that life is not fair, but you know what? A few years ago I would never have said this, but life is beautiful too. You need to look at the positives."

"I met several people who care about me," he continued. "For years, I had locked away my emotions and yet I was able to _feel_ when I met people who loved me. I read my parents' journals and found out that they indeed loved me. My godfather and his wife adopted me – and now you as well – and showered us with love and affection, treating us like their own children when they never had any obligation to do so. I found my role models in both sets of parents. Most importantly, I met the two people who are the most important in my life. One of them was forced upon me, but she made my life worth living. When I was cold and distant with her, she persisted, trying to find my inner fire so that I could live and later became the love of my life. Pretty soon I realised that Daphne was someone I could never live without."

"Then came this little boy," said Harry, lightly tapping the tip of Dylan's nose, "whom I could relate to so much that within a span of two months, he entered my heart and cemented his place as my little brother. We bonded over our childhood as I grew to trust him. The title of brother which I had casually given to him actually held meaning now as I became protective of him and loved him. I found out that I could never live without him either. He held an integral part of my heart, always being there."

"When I entered Hogwarts, I used to frown and sneer at families and friends. I used to think they were quite useless. I admit that I only freed Sirius from Azkaban because I wanted him to be my guardian and the power he could wield as Lord Black, not because I felt anything for him. Even though he knew how I felt, he still tried to form a relationship with me and cared enough to adopt me as his son. It is also true that when I first met you, I was thinking of how best I could use your position as another child abused by Muggles to further my goals, but like my godfather and his wife, I found myself caring for you in ways I never realised or understood."

"That's the beauty of life, Dylan. Yes, you killed your father, but you also fulfilled your duty as a son to the best possible extent. The guilt would always be a part of you, but they are also the only memories you have of your father. Know that your father indeed cared about you. Accept that he made mistakes and that you are not to blame for his actions. Don't get me wrong, I'm not defending him. What Rabastan did to your mother was unforgivable. It was wrong of your mother to have taken her anger out on you, an innocent child. She willingly gave up her life instead of raising you, but she was the victim, a seventeen-year-old girl. You once told me that you don't hold it against her. That's what parents and children do, right? They forgive each other if they made mistakes because they're family? Well, he asked for forgiveness and you know in your heart that he would forgive you too. There is nothing more you can do. You need to accept it and move on."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, not saying a word. Dylan tried to process what Harry told him as he tried to get his wild emotions under control. It took some time, but he was finally calm, breathing normally.

"Thanks, Harry," said Dylan quietly. "I needed that. You're right. If I can forgive my parents, they would have forgiven me too."

"Exactly, and there is another way you can make it up to them," said Harry as he pressed his lips to the boy's forehead, looking at him proudly. "Your father's body would still be at the Ministry morgue. Your mother would have been buried somewhere near the orphanage, but wizarding culture dictates that it should have been done by you. Give your mother, father, uncle and aunt a proper cremation as per the traditions of your family. Do your duty as the scion of the Lestrange line. They may not have taken care of you as parents should, but they are still your birth-parents and they deserve to be cremated by their son."

Dylan smiled softly and nodded. Yes, he would do that. He would have to go to the Lestrange vault at Gringotts to grab any books on funeral rites of the family, but he would do it. As a final penance for killing his father, he would do his duty and cremate his father, mother, uncle and aunt. It was a long-standing wizarding tradition and he would honour it. He knew very little about his mother, but she was the woman who gave birth to him, and that deserved respect. Just because his father had acted without morals didn't mean he would too.

The door opened and the healer stepped inside, followed by Sirius, Amelia, Cyrus, Elizabeth, Astoria, Rigel and Daphne.

"Harry!" said Amelia as she rushed forward to hug her oldest son. "Thank Merlin you're alright."

"I'm fine, Mum, don't worry," said Harry, smiling slightly.

"You always say that, but it doesn't necessarily mean you are doing well," said Sirius, hugging his son too. "We were so worried, kiddo. Our mission was a success. I'm so incredibly proud of you."

Harry's smile widened as he observed everyone. Rigel was clapping his hands excitedly, having morphed to look like a miniature form of Harry, much to the amusement of everyone else.

"You seem to be fine, Lord Potter," said Healer Thomson with a smile. "But you'll have to stay here for two more days, just to be sure that there are no traces of the venom in your bloodstream. Once you are discharged, Healer Greengrass will give you a weekly check-up for the next month to ensure you are healing properly."

"Thank you, Healer Thompson," said Harry. One of the hospital house-elves brought him a hot plate of food and everyone gathered around him.

"So, what's been going on? Did I miss anything?" asked Harry with a smirk, his eyes twinkling in amusement, making everyone laugh.

"Yeah, he's fine," said Astoria wryly. Dylan smiled softly too as Sirius wrapped an around the younger boy's shoulders.

Harry mentally sighed in contentment and rested his head on Daphne's shoulder. The threat had passed and he was finally surrounded by people who loved him.

Yes, life was not perfect, but it was still beautiful.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry looked at the items before him introspectively. A wand, a stone and a cloak were sitting innocently on the ornate mahogany desk in his study at Potter Castle. He had returned from St Mungo's Hospital just an hour ago and he was quite curious about the objects. These were the Deathly Hallows, the most powerful devices in the history of wizardkind. He did not know if they had been invented by powerful people or if there had actually been an entity called Death who had given it to the Peverell brothers. However, he remembered what Alfred Potter had said to him when he was a child. These objects were heavily sought after by many all over the world. The Potter Massacre had taken place mainly due to the Deathly Hallows. It was then that Lord Alfred Potter ensured that nobody knew of the Potter family's connection with the Peverells, deciding to suppress all knowledge of it.

But now, more than a thousand years later, all three objects were back ... back in the hands of the last descendant of Ignotus Peverell, one of the three brothers of the tale.

Harry recalled what he had seen in Dumbledore's memory. Apparently, James Potter had demanded an Unbreakable Vow from Dumbledore to return the cloak to the former's family when the headmaster had requested to borrow it. Dumbledore had been very curious about the cloak and had been astounded by its discovery. He recognised that it was the third Hallow. He had already won the Elder Wand from Gellert Grindelwald, but with the cloak in his possession, all he had to do was find the stone. Dumbledore had never been able to get over his obsession with the Hallows, desperately yearning for them, at the very least to apologise to his parents and sister for having failed them. When he had realised what and where the Resurrection Stone was, the Hallow he craved the most, he had hoped to destroy Voldemort's Horcrux and take the stone for himself at the same time. It was a win-win situation. But of course, there had been one problem.

He had fallen victim to the lure of the Resurrection Stone as he put the fake ring on, triggering the deadly and horrifying curse which Harry had placed on it. That was when Dumbledore realised what a fool he had been. He had traded his life for a fool's dream and had not even found the Horcrux at all. It had been a fake. He spent more time looking for the Horcruxes. He had been close to finding the cave but had been bedridden after the attack on Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

 _Master of Death ..._

Harry simply stroked the wand with a finger. The power of the Elder Wand was undeniable. Talented and powerful he may be, but Harry doubted he would have managed to defeat Voldemort without the help of the Deathstick. The connection he felt, the power flowing in his veins, the sheer pleasure of having one's body infused with the magic of Death was alluring. No wonder the Elder Wand was the most sought after treasure for more than a millennium.

But was it worth it?

Albus Dumbledore was many things, but he was hardly stupid. Knowing the wand was a dangerous target, he planned on destroying its power with his death. Having planned his death with Severus Snape, he hoped to die undefeated, the wand's last true master. However, he didn't anticipate Snape's true nature. Snape, until his dying breath, had been loyal only to himself. He may not have known about the Elder Wand, but his motives did not match with those of Albus Dumbledore. Intent was powerful when it concerned matters of old magic, and in this instance, Snape disarming Dumbledore, intending to kill the latter regardless of their agreement, made him the unintentional master of the Deathstick.

That was until Harry killed Severus Snape, becoming the new master of the Elder Wand.

Knowing of the wand's power, should it be preserved or destroyed? If it was preserved, it would always remain a concern at the back of Harry's mind. Even if his own family disarmed him in a friendly duel, the wand might switch allegiance. If that happened, no one could keep track of who the true master was. Things might spiral out of control several years down the line and could be the cause of a new war – and Harry did not want that to happen. Hiding it would not solve the problem either as someone in the future could use it for their own benefit. The Potter family in the past had been quite power-hungry and he could not trust his descendants with invincible power.

Did he truly need the wand? He would still be one of the most powerful wizards of his generation even without the Elder Wand, just like Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald and Voldemort had been before him. There would be several others like him around the world who were that powerful too, but it was acceptable. He would be playing the political game now and his goal was to avoid war in the future. He would have used the Resurrection Stone to talk to his parents, but why? He had made peace with their deaths and had removed their remains from their graves in Godric's Hollow and had cremated them as per the traditions of the Potter family several years ago. Besides, the dead should stay dead. The Invisibility Cloak was a great asset, so it would remain with him and his descendants. It was the Clan's identity.

 _The Clan ..._

A memory from when he was a ten-year-old boy flashed to Harry's mind ...

 _"The Master of Death is said to be bestowed with immortality and immense power," said Alfred Potter, looking at the ten-year-old boy as they discussed the Potter Massacre and what caused it. "That's why those objects are so heavily sought after. My nephew told his so-called allies that we had the Peverell Invisibility Cloak. They reasoned with themselves that if we had the cloak, we would surely have the wand and stone as well. With that in mind, they nearly brought the Potter family to the brink of extinction. We held the Peverell Lordship for centuries, ever since Aradia Peverell married into the Potter family, but I buried that title and any information about our connection with the Peverells after the attack."_

 _"Buried?" asked Harry, surprised. "How? I doubt you could make everyone forget that you were Lord Peverell! There were bound to be records of that in Ministry archives, in books, and in the minds of several people!"_

 _Alfred smiled softly, his ghostly form shimmering in the sunlight in the classroom at Potter Castle. "You know how the Fidelius Charm works, don't you?" he asked. Seeing Harry nod, he continued. "This works on a similar principle but instead of hiding an object, we decided to hide any information that revealed the continued existence of the Peverell family. My wife and I altered the charm and placed it into the Peverell signet ring itself. It was very tricky and it took us ten years to perfect it, but when we were done, nobody remembered the merge of the Potter and Peverell families that occurred centuries earlier. Everyone thought the line had died a long time ago, and that's what your history books say as well. I was then known only as Lord of House Potter, not as the Lord of the Peverell Clan, as we had been known since the early fourteenth century."_

 _"But you essentially gave up a powerful title!" protested Harry, still retaining his perfectly expressionless face. "Peverell is our name, our identity! Why would you give up your name? You would have lost political power and influence, right?"_

 _"Yes, but I realised that our clan's thirst for power actually cost us our family," explained Alfred patiently. "You don't understand how brutal the Potter Massacre truly was. For that, you will have to understand how our family was before the incident. Our clan was so powerful that we had contacts all over, controlling so much international trade in the magical world. That's the reason we are so wealthy. Let me tell you, it was not easy building a business empire. We strived and worked hard for centuries, so many generations working with a single vision in mind, and so by the fourteenth century, our might in international trade was unparalleled. None of our enemies lasted long as anyone who caused us trouble would find themselves utterly destitute, their large fortunes lying in our vaults at the castle. We eliminated all threats, whether Magical or Muggle, whether nobles or royals. Nothing got in our way of business. If we wanted some legislation to be passed in the Wizengamot, we used the money we had at our disposal. We believed ourselves to be untouchable, arrogantly resting on a large pile of gold," he finished bitterly._

 _"From being one of the most powerful families in the world, to be nearly driven to extinction, having to cremate several dozen bodies of my family members on the same day, from my grandparents, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces and other cousins, to my little grandnephews and grandnieces, was traumatizing. I never recovered from that, which is why I decided not to move on, remaining as a ghost. The Potter Massacre changed our clan forever. We were at risk, with only three members of our once large family alive. I had to do something to protect the future of our clan. That's why we decided to hide the Peverell name. What's the point in having that title if I lose my wife and son? It doesn't matter, Harry. We are Peverells; no one can deny that. The Clan exists to this day – in you. We just don't use the title in public. Family above all, Harry, always remember that. Nothing is worth losing your family due to something as stupid as money or titles. I learnt that lesson the hard way. This lesson is something I ensured all my descendants learnt from the time they were children so that we don't make the same mistake again."_

 _"But you still gave up your seat on the Wizengamot, didn't you?" Harry persisted. His ten-year-old mind couldn't understand why his ancestors would strive so hard to give up a name that gave them their identity. It was like telling him to give up his last name of Potter and he couldn't ever imagine doing that. His name had been the only connection he had to his dead parents when had lived with the Dursleys. "The castle's wards protected you when they launched an attack and you prevailed. In that case, why would you want to give up the power you hold?"_

 _"What power?" asked Alfred, frowning. "I've told you, Harry, we never had much political power. If we wanted something, we bribed Wizengamot members to get the legislation passed. The Black family essentially controlled the Wizengamot and had political connections throughout Magical Europe. Politics is a heavy commitment and you need to invest time and money, something we didn't bother doing as it wasn't profitable. Since we didn't care about politics, we kept to ourselves. We were more interested in magical innovation and our business ventures. We still held the vote of the Potter family, so it wasn't a big deal. We only concealed the name. Nothing happened to our wealth and the Peverell family magic still flowed in our veins. The Peverell Clan still existed, but in secret, as we were known to the public simply as the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Not as a clan."_

 _"The family magic still exists?" asked Harry surprised._

 _"Of course it does. What is family magic? It's nothing but the inherent magic developed in the children of a family through their parents, again in their children's children, and so on. It's the unique brand of magic in our blood that ties family members together. Family magic is like an individual's magical signature – they're unique but unlike the latter, they also change with every generation. But even with change, the crux of the magical signature remains the same. Some families have certain traits that are unique to their bloodline. It can be a manifestation or a change in the structure of magic that flows in their blood; I'm not really sure how it truly works as I never studied blood-magic in detail. Only witches and wizards at the Master's or Sorcerer's level study family magic. What you need to understand is that every magical family in the world has family magic. No one can take it away. It's part of your blood, your very existence and identity."_

 _"The Peverell family magic is still strong in you. Coming back to what we gave up, let me point out that just because you are considered nobility doesn't make you special, Harry. The title of 'Lord' gives you a permanent seat on the Wizengamot and a few fringe benefits – nothing else! Not all Ancient and Noble Houses are wealthy or influential; several of them aren't. The House of Ollivander, for example, is one of the oldest families in the country, but their political influence is less than zero. The rest of the Wizengamot is comprised of elected representatives. The heir ring you currently wear on your finger and the Head of House ring you will inherit on your eleventh birthday were designed by the family for protection and as a means of identification. Anyone can have a signet ring made for their family too, even Muggle-borns! So in essence, the Noble Houses are just a title for politics, the members holding one permanent seat. That's it! Now, tell me, what did we lose by hiding the existence of the Most Ancient and Noble Clan of Peverell?"_

 _Harry thought for a minute as Alfred observed him. "Nothing, really," he admitted quietly. "I'm still as much a Peverell as I am a Potter. The loss of one vote in the legislative body doesn't take away my identity."_

 _"Exactly," said Alfred, a proud smile on his face as he beamed at his descendant. "We, in fact, saved our clan from extinction. No power is worth losing your family, Harry."_

 _Harry nodded slowly, his mind thinking fast. "What happened to the Peverell signet ring?" he asked curiously._

 _"Do you remember the secondary blood ward in the bowels of the castle near the high-security vaults? The place I asked you to pour several drops of your blood in a small basin? Well, it contains the Peverell signet ring. There is no secret keeper as it is strictly not a Fidelius Charm, but it is protected by our family's blood. My wife placed a very complex intent-based enchantment on it so that if the ring feels there is someone in our clan who is worthy, it would accept them as Lord Peverell. If you are indeed capable of protecting your family in the face of danger, the ring will automatically come to you. You can then revive the clan. Have you understood what we have discussed this morning, Harry?"_

 _"Yes, Grandfather," said Harry in his usual monotonous voice, his intelligent green eyes sparkling with curiosity as he walked towards the castle's library to find out more information._

 _Alfred Potter smiled in satisfaction. The boy was going to confirm everything that was told; good. It meant Harry wouldn't accept anything at face value. The boy was truly unique and special. If there was anyone who could revive the clan, it was him._

Sixteen-year-old Harry James Potter stared at the three objects placed on his table. He had a decision to make. Just as he turned towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Deathly Hallows glowed.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Identical silvery eyes belonging to Luna Lovegood and Garrick Ollivander snapped open as they were assaulted by a vision. The Centaurs observed the stars and planets from their home in the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts.

"Mars is unusually bright tonight," said Ronan.

"And to think we thought the war had finally ended, only for the stars to warn us of another," replied Firenze. "Come, we must warn the others. We have to prepare for what is eventually going to happen."

With that, the two Centaurs trotted off deeper into the forest.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: No, the story isn't over yet. I told you that I plan to take it beyond Voldemort. I'm not sure how many will like it, but I am very much looking forward to writing it._**

 ** _Many authors (including me) have fallen into the trap of giving more titles to Harry, making him a political superhero. The problem is – if the Peverell family's connection to Harry is canon, how can he suddenly claim the title by just going to Gringotts? Wouldn't his father or grandfather have done the same? How would Gringotts have access to the signet ring at all unless someone placed it in the vault? There has to be a reason for him claiming the titles. That's why I included this. Being a Lord doesn't give Harry superpowers, as I have explained. It's just a title with certain benefits, nothing more. The heir and Head of House ring are quite common, even among the common folk and is not restricted to the nobility. Family magic is like DNA; everyone has it, not just a certain section of the population. Until now, Harry very rarely, if at all, takes part in political dealings as he's not old enough for it. It's Sirius and Amelia who take care of such matters._**

 ** _I feel Godric was a grandiose character, so it was fitting that he would tie his family ring to the sword and entrust it to the Sorting Hat, instructing it to hand it over to only someone of his blood who was worthy. Salazar expected his daughter's descendants to claim his ring and title, but none did, because, in my story, the last member married a Muggle, giving birth to a squib, which continued until the birth of Lily Evans. The Peverell title has already been explained. I tried my best to not fall into the trap of simply giving Harry titles without a logical explanation. Even with the titles, Harry only has four votes. The Wizengamot is comprised of one hundred members. He doesn't automatically control them just because he holds more than one vote._**

 ** _Do let me know your views on this by leaving a comment. It would be greatly appreciated as I want to know what you all think as well. Thanks for the reviews!_**


	41. Destiny Revealed

**_Chapter 41_**

 ** _Destiny Revealed_**

Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter took a deep breath as he walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He put his hands inside the pockets of his trousers and stared at the beautiful grounds outside.

Harry knew that the Deathly Hallows were very powerful. The wizard who obtained them all was said to be the Master of Death and according to legend, was also immortal. The question was – should he keep them locked up or should he use it? He considered his options. As far as anyone was concerned, the cloak was not a threat. It had survived for centuries within the family, and he too would eventually pass it on to his descendants. The stone had been held by the Gaunts for hundreds of years in the form of a ring. None of them knew its true power – that it was a necromantic marvel. People like Dumbledore and Grindelwald might think it would create an army of Inferi, but Harry highly doubted that. It was not a weapon of war, according to the Tale of the Three Brothers.

The sole danger was the Elder Wand. That was a weapon that had destroyed countless lives. Only a powerful wizard could truly tame the Deathstick. Was he qualified?

The teenager flexed his fingers. He would not let the Elder Wand be placed under lock and key. Such power could have its uses, and he had plans for the future. Nothing that involved war, but if he ever met powerhouses like Lord Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore again, the Elder Wand would be a useful ally. He was already the master of the wand, so why not use it?

Thinking so, Harry moved back to his desk and picked up the Elder Wand. However, he gasped when he was forced to throw it back – it was burning hot! The wand began glowing. Harry stepped back in surprise when it ascended in the air. The Resurrection Stone followed, expanding in size until it stood as a perfect disc. The Invisibility Cloak folded into a neat triangular shape and assembled behind the two objects creating the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. All three were glowing bright gold, and the temperature in his study was very warm due to the amount of magic present in the air.

"What is this?" Harry murmured to himself. He slowly extended his hand to touch it, to feel it. He didn't know why he was doing it, but something about the Hallows was calling to him, and he was attracted to it like a magnet.

The moment his skin touched the objects, Harry screamed as the magic in the Deathly Hallows merged into his body. The Hallows reconfigured to form a sphere of golden magical energy and before he knew what was happening, the sphere had connected with his chest. Harry closed his eyes as his head started spinning. He saw things he couldn't identify. There was pitch blackness all around him, but suddenly, he could see stars, planets, galaxies, and just when he thought he was going mad, the Deathly Hallows infused with his very soul.

Lightning flashed outside Potter Castle as it began raining heavily. Harry's body was glowing, with his aura lashing out violently. He struggled to regain control of his magic as he collapsed on his knees, breathing heavily. His vision was still blurry, and his body was aching everywhere. He fell back against his desk; his head was throbbing too.

 _What the hell was that?_

Several floors underground, in the bowels of the castle, was a basin holding two ancient signet rings. The basin, charmed by the late Lady Potter, recognised the powerful magical signatures of the witch and wizard present in the castle. With a flash of light, the Peverell signet rings for the Lord and Lady vanished, appearing on the fingers of Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass. The Most Ancient and Noble Clan of Peverell had been revived.

"Harry?"

The scion of the Potter family stood up immediately and turned towards the door. He was stunned to see that both Daphne and Dylan were trembling. There was a golden glow around their bodies as well. Both of them were breathing erratically.

"Harry, you won't believe this, but something strange happened just a few minutes ago," Dylan cried hysterically. "Some strange golden sphere suddenly appeared in front of me and the next thing I knew, my whole body is aching and I was surrounded by pitch blackness!"

Daphne was looking at Harry introspectively. "The same happened to me too," she confessed softly. "And somehow, I gained a ring as well."

Harry paused as he examined the ring. It was made of black diamond, placed on a platinum band, with the crest of a Thestral. It was the Peverell ring. But that was not what worried him. His body was literally infused with magic, and he felt more powerful than he ever had before. But he was confused; the Deathly Hallows reacting that way to _one_ person made sense. After all, according to legend, there could be only one Master of Death. Why did the same thing happen to Dylan and Daphne as well?

"Harry?" asked Daphne worriedly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

For the first time, Harry didn't know how to answer that. He too was dazed by the developments that had unfolded in the past few minutes and he couldn't begin to comprehend them. Dylan stood silently, waiting for Harry to speak.

"I don't know," exhaled Harry. "I had placed the Deathly Hallows –"

"Wait, the Death Hallows? But they're a myth, right?" she frowned. "I know about them, but they're supposed to be a children's tale!"

Harry smiled faintly. "Not really," he admitted. "But I'll explain later. I need to think for a while ... clear my head."

Daphne and Dylan looked at each other in confusion as Harry transformed into his Animagus form and flew out of the window.

"That was odd," muttered Dylan. He flexed his fingers and pointed them at the large windows. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated.

A jet of white light flew from the tips of his fingers, making the window explode. Daphne gasped as she hastily threw up a shield. However, the shield was so strong that it pushed them against the wall painfully.

"Did I just use wandless magic?" he exclaimed, inspecting his hand with barely concealed curiosity.

Daphne was already on her feet. Repairing the damage with just a flick of her wand – again, proving that her magical reserves had increased drastically – she quickly made her way to the castle's library. She would have to find out what had happened to her, Harry and Dylan.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

At Hogwarts, Luna Lovegood suddenly sat upright, her silvery eyes staring into space, lost in thought. Her vision clouded as she was soon transported into another world. Images and sounds dominated her sight.

 _"– does that mean the suffering of all those children count for nothing?" spat Harry. "Are we just going to ignore the plight of defenceless children and sit in our cradle of power? Your arrogance disgusts me!"_

 _"Nature does not differentiate between good or bad, Lord Potter. Nature and Magic only exist in balance, and should the balance tilt either way, it would lead to destruction."_

 _Daphne felt tears in her eyes as she saw the sight before her. The tears quickly turned to anger. After all that they tried to do, this was how they were being repaid? She immediately took off into the air without the help of a broom. She took in the sight before her and glared hatefully. She brought her palms together as her anger reached epic proportions._

 _"The shroud of darkness has fallen, Lord Potter. We must take action, or we might lose everything that we hold most dear."_

 _"My Lady," said the wizard wearing a navy-blue uniform. "We're ready."_

 _Daphne checked her calculations once again. She took a deep breath as she stood in the middle of the ship's bridge. "Engage," she ordered. She felt the anxiety of everyone present. The screen in front of her contorted. Any second now ..._

 _The General watched in silence as their enemies approached their position. Dylan activated the communications device as he spoke clearly, "Launch the first squadron. All ships, fire at will."_

 _Harry stood silently as everyone waited for his command._

 _"They're not backing down. They've ignored your warning," said General Lestrange, turning back to look at his brother._

 _"Do it," said Harry quietly. His green eyes were fixed on the screen as his words were implemented into action. His fist tightened, nails digging into his palm, releasing blood._

 _BOOM!_

Luna gasped as she woke up, trembling violently. She immediately rushed to the bathroom and threw up. This was the most intense vision she had ever had. Usually, it was just a few seconds here and there at random intervals, too brief to identify anything. But this time ...

She hastily grabbed her mirror. "Garrick Ollivander!"

Luna waited impatiently as the old man's face appeared.

"I assume you're calling me about a vision?" he asked without preamble. He too looked pale and shaken up.

"Yes, Grandpapa," answered Luna, addressing her late mother's father. "This was, by far, the clearest vision I've ever had, and I can't understand what it means."

"We can discuss your progress once you're home for the summer," exhaled Ollivander. "I need time to interpret this as well. Keep an eye on Sybill Trelawney, my dear."

"Understood," she replied, giving a curt nod. "It's a good thing the second term at school hasn't ended yet. I'll keep a close eye on her."

Luna cut the connection, but she was still breathing heavily. Splashing cool water on her face, she quietly left Ravenclaw Tower. She had to monitor another Seer in the castle – a Seer that was unlike many others. Instead of just seeing visions as she and her grandfather did, Trewalney recited actual prophecies. With a vision this intense, she might just make one.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Far away from Magical Britain, a creature was meditating. The creature seemed to be female. She had a crown on her head, but it seemed to be made of ice and pearls instead of precious stones. She was of average height. Her ears were longer than those of a human and her skin had wrinkles on them, suggesting great age. Her hands seemed strong, with sharp nails, and her skin tone was dark blue, but the most distinguishing feature of them all was her eyes – eyes which were large, the round orbs the colour of the sunset.

The Queen of the Elves opened her eyes, stroking her chin in contemplation. She summoned her chief adviser and gave her command.

"Bring Nicolas and Perenelle before me. I sense a strange shift in the planet's magical activity. Ollivander was right. The time has come. We must begin preparations for what is eventually going to happen. We must be ready within the next ten years."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I shall contact them at once."

The Queen looked towards the sky as her orange eyes narrowed. After thousands of years, it was time for the Elves to come out of their self-imposed solitude. The fate of the planet was at stake. She whispered the name of the young man whom she had sensed, the vision which the Queen had foreseen more than three hundred years ago, when she had still been a youngling.

 _"Harry James Potter. The Saviour of Magic."_

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry closed his eyes to contemplate his situation. He was perched on top of the highest tower of the castle, not bothered by the heavy rain that was soaking his clothes. Looking down, he once again traced the tattoo he had on his chest. The addition on his chest, directly over his heart, was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. It was dark red, looking more like a blood clot. What was interesting was that Daphne and Dylan had the same tattoo as well, from what he had verified a couple of days ago. The memory of the three of them absorbing the magic of the Hallows made him frown.

Why was he suddenly the Master of Death?

Why him?

That was not the only puzzling discovery. Ever since he had absorbed the power of the Hallows, he had felt a connection with Daphne and Dylan he had had never felt before. It was as if his fiancée and brother were _tied to him_ in some way. In fact, according to Daphne, she felt like the boys were tied to _her_. He could only conclude that all three of them, their magic itself, were tied to each other due the Deathly Hallows.

Harry could feel it, _their_ magic present in his very soul. It was literally indescribable. Did that mean his fiancée and brother were immortal too? Wait, why was he jumping to conclusions? Was he immortal at all? The legend of the Master of Death could not possibly be true, could it?

 _No_. There was a voice inside him, telling him that his theory was right. The magic of the Hallows had turned him into the Master of Death and he would not accept that title if he did not have his fiancée and brother with him. Magic had granted his wish – this he knew, though _how,_ he could not explain. There was _something_ nudging him along in that direction.

The traditions of magical species like magical humans, goblins, centaurs, merpeople, elves and many others believed in the sentience of Magic itself. To them, magic was not just a tool or ability – it was much more than that. It was the primordial energy that had created the universe. Their beliefs were based on it and this had existed for tens of thousands of years.

Harry now knew that they had all been right all along. It was as if Magic herself was guiding him along, helping him fulfil his destiny by making him the Master of Death. _But what was his destiny?_ Hadn't he just destroyed Voldemort?

"Something on your mind, Harry?"

The young man's mouth twitched into a small smile as he saw the ghost floating next to him. If there was anyone he could talk to about his problems, it was Alfred Potter, the ghost that had raised him since he was a little boy.

"I was just thinking about what happened a few days ago," said Harry softly. "Why did the Hallows choose to merge into us? Why the three of us specifically? _Why_ _me_ _?_ "

"Such questions do not always have answers, Harry," replied Alfred with a knowing smile. "The Deathly Hallows are objects that have never been fully understood by anyone. No one can predict how they would react to situations and people. Magic is free-flowing and eternal. You can't really anticipate when and why magic would flow in a certain direction."

"What is expected of me?" he blurted out. "I've fulfilled the prophecy that Trewalney recited to Dumbledore. I got rid of Voldemort for good. But now, I _sense_ something that I cannot explain, Grandfather."

"Hmm," the ghost pondered. "This voice in your head –"

"It's not really a voice, just a strong feeling I have about my role in the future. Sometimes I feel like there are whispers in my head. Other times, it gives me a sense of peace I've never felt before. It tells me if I'm on the right path ... and that gives me the courage to move forward. But I don't understand ... it's only been a few days and I'm already feeling such strange effects!"

"And what _is_ your path?" asked Alfred sharply. "What is that you plan to do?"

Harry took a deep breath. "The magical world isn't truly safe until we have cut off all contact with the Muggles," he said. "My main concern is the children who grow up in Muggle environments. Of course, I'm also worried that the International Statute of Secrecy cannot be enforced a few decades from now unless we do something. With more Muggles being informed about magic, the more dangerous it's going to be. If the statute ever crumbles, we'll have nowhere to run, and we can't defend ourselves against such superior numbers. I have goals and ideas for the future of the magical world but I also know that one person cannot do it alone. I can recognise that this is how Dark Lords began their journey, but so did some of the greatest witches and wizards in history. Unfortunately, history also shows us that greatness always comes at a cost of war. I have lived through the war with Voldemort and I don't want to witness another. I welcome peace. But for that, I cannot limit myself to Magical Britain alone. I need allies internationally."

"You've had these ideas since you were a small child. What makes you think this is the right course of action?"

"I just have this _feeling_ ," said Harry earnestly. "It's the whispers in my head saying that I'm doing the right thing. I'm inclined to trust them."

Alfred smiled. "I have raised you since you were a seven-year-old boy, Harry," said the ghost softly, "and I've always known that you were meant for great things. You have it in you to become a leader. Listen to your heart, it won't lead you astray. Do not try to change the present based on what you know of the future. The future is always in motion, and by doing things to change it, you might create a self-fulfilling prophecy. You might create the very danger you sought to avoid."

Harry sat silently as he thought about that. His eyes narrowed when he spotted something strange about the ghost. "Grandfather, are you alright?" he inquired.

"You've always had a sharp eye," chuckled Alfred. He looked at the boy fondly. "My time has come, my child. It is time I moved on."

The teenager froze as he looked at his ancestor. "What?" he whispered angrily. "You're leaving? After a century and a half, you decide to leave _now_? When I need you the most?"

"It's not my decision, Harry," said Alfred sadly. "Ghosts are created due to a variety of reasons. Some choose not to cross over because they're scared of death. Others do so because they can't accept death. I chose to remain as a ghost solely to watch over my descendants until someone revives the Peverell Clan. I promised myself that I would move on only after I assured myself of my family's safety."

"So?"

"So, my soul never passed on at the time of my death," he explained. "However, my mission is now complete. I have faith in your ability to protect your family. My soul has recognised that. Hence, my magic is fading away. I will have to move on."

Harry stood stunned as his green orbs filled with tears. This man – this ghost – who had raised him, taught him, and had been the first parental influence in his life, was going to leave? He never realised that there was a possibility of Alfred moving on now that his purpose for remaining as a ghost was complete.

"Grandfather," he croaked. "I –"

But his words were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say? How could he thank the man for everything he had done? Harry knew that he couldn't have reached his potential without Alfred nurturing his injured heart, giving him the knowledge that would help him survive. Without Alfred Potter in his life, Harry would have been a pawn in Albus Dumbledore's game, and the war with Voldemort would have raged on.

"You don't have to say anything, my child," said Alfred, his eyes filled with silvery tears. "I know. Words cannot describe how incredibly proud of you I am. Your name shall be remembered for millennia, Harry Potter, and I'm ecstatic that I can call you my grandson. Fulfil your destiny, whatever it may be, to the best of your ability. Remember, no matter how dire the situation is, _you're not alone_. Goodbye, my dear child, and good luck."

A lone tear slid down his cheek as Harry watched his ancestor's form fade away, the smile and serenity still on his ghostly face. The teenager stood rigidly as he closed his eyes in respect for the great wizard – the one who had mentored him all these years.

"Thank you for everything, Grandfather," he said softly, his head bowed. "I swear to you that I will not back away from my destiny, whatever it may be. I will strive to make you proud every day. This is the solemn vow of a Peverell."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The aftermath of the death of Lord Voldemort saw Harry receiving several gifts from the people of Magical Britain, thanking him for what he had done to save them from the Dark Lord's wrath. Harry had instead given those gifts and money to Dolores Umbridge's victims who were now under a protection program which helped them re-enter the magical society. The Ministry of Magic was paying for their rehabilitation and sessions with a mind healer and also ensured that they got proper jobs. After her trial, Umbridge had been tossed through the Veil of Death for kidnapping, corruption and attempted murder – she had been responsible for sending Dementors to Nottingham to try to lure Harry out of the castle all those months ago.

Harry had also met his friends and they had thrown him a party at Greengrass Manor. Theodore Nott, for one, had been relieved that he had managed to survive the war without having to take the Dark Mark, even if he had been unhappy that his father had died.

Draco Malfoy had been conflicted because while Lucius had died in the attack, Narcissa was still alive. The sore point for the blond was the oath of fealty he had been forced to swear to Harry and there was nothing he could do to get out of it. He would be forced to be Harry Potter's ally in the future, no matter the circumstances. However, true to his word, Harry had ensured that Draco was not sent to Azkaban. Instead, the boy was forced to do community service at St Mungo's, which was a much better alternative than being publicly expelled and arrested.

As Harry had advised, Dylan had cremated Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix as per the customs of the Lestrange family. He had also been able to recover his mother's remains from a graveyard near his previous orphanage and had done the same for her as well. The deed seemed to give him a sense of peace he had never felt before. Dylan later admitted to Harry that he was finally ready to move on from that chapter of his life. He had accepted the fact of his birth and about his father's death, and realised that there was nothing he could do about it. All he wanted to do was move on.

The Ministry of Magic was also finally at peace. Sirius decided now to focus his efforts on how to improve the working of the Ministry and streamline it so that it would be more efficient. Redundant offices and departments would be done away with so that work would be smoother. Since Dumbledore's reputation had taken a beating since the attack on Hogwarts, Sirius managed to finally oust him out as the Chief Warlock and also the British representative on the International Confederation of Wizards, thus removing him as Supreme Mugwump as well. Madam Marchbanks managed to win the position as Chief Warlock while an old wizard from central Africa named Babajide Akingbade was elected as the new Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W. Sirius finally got his revenge on Dumbledore as he took away the man's titles before his death, making Dumbledore die known only as the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Nearly three weeks after the death of the Dark Lord, Harry walked inside the Hogwarts hospital wing and took in the sight that lay before him. Albus Dumbledore, the once powerful wizard, was reduced to being bedridden.

"Hello, Dumbledore," said Harry quietly, moving closer to the bed. "How are you?"

The aged headmaster looked at the boy introspectively. He had been informed about the defeat of Lord Voldemort at Harry's hands. Even now, it felt too surreal for him to comprehend. His gaze lingered on the boy. There were changes in Harry. He now seemed to practically ooze magical power. His bright green eyes had changed colour – they were now literally the shade of the _Avada Kedavra_ curse. He seemed to fill the room with his mere presence alone.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him with a faint smile. "Come to say goodbye to a dying man?"

The teenager simply raised an eyebrow. "How long do you have?"

"A couple of days, I expect."

"The curse wasn't meant for you," explained Harry after a pause. "It was meant to keep Voldemort from detecting the fake Horcrux. Never did we dream that you were stupid enough to actually put it on."

"I was a fool," he sighed. "I was sorely tempted –"

"By the lure of the Resurrection Stone?"

Dumbledore looked away. "You invaded my privacy," he said quietly.

Harry's eyes turned cold. "You sacrificed my fiancée," he shot back, "all to protect Snape's rank in Voldemort's inner circle. I'd say we're even."

The headmaster sighed. "Harry, I was only doing what I thought was best," he said heavily. "At the time, I did not have a choice. I needed Severus to remain as a spy. He was our only link to Voldemort."

"And it was alright for you to sacrifice Daphne for that?"

"We would have most definitely rescued her later, Harry. I would not have let her stay in Voldemort's prison for long."

Harry snorted bitterly. "You still haven't changed. Even after Voldemort's death, after having the truth shoved in your face, you haven't changed. Do you feel any remorse for what you did to my parents?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat. "Of course I do, but you have to understand why I did it. Countless lives had been lost," he said before coughing violently. "When Professor Trelawney recited the prophecy to me, I had to act. Voldemort seemed unstoppable. What would you have done?"

"I would not have betrayed people who trusted me," said Harry in a frigid tone.

The headmaster smiled sadly. "You're too naïve, Harry. I have never claimed to be a good person. I knew from the time I was a youth that I was not the beacon of light as people now think I am. Sometimes, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. That is the universal truth. Had I not activated the prophecy, Voldemort would have killed thousands more, starting another global wizarding conflict, just a couple of decades after Grindelwald had been dealt with. I know you. You would have done the same."

"I don't deny that the greater good is important," replied Harry, fixing him a penetrating stare. "If the leaders of our world don't think from a larger angle, society would crumble from within very soon. Sometimes, doing something unsavoury would actually be good. I'm not denying that. But you're wrong in that had I been your place, I would have sacrificed James and Lily Potter."

"I would not betray people who trusted me with their lives, Dumbledore. My parents and several others trusted you to lead them through the war. Unfortunately, you were too clouded by Voldemort's games to pay attention to what his actions had caused. Had it been me, I would have obliterated the Death Eaters – every single one of them. A single Fiendfyre curse would have torn their wards to shreds and engulfed their homes in minutes."

Dumbledore gaped at Harry in shock. "Harry, how could you even say that?" he asked, aghast. "You would have killed innocent children –"

"Neville and I were innocent too," spat Harry angrily as he moved closer to the headmaster. "Just because our parents were committed to fighting Voldemort did not mean you could make life or death decisions for them! They weren't your puppets! You thought the Death Eaters outside the inner circle could be redeemed, and _that_ was the mistake that cost you the first war!"

"Harry, most of them outside the inner circle were coerced by Voldemort to join his cause!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Not all of them were like Bellatrix or Lucius! Some were indeed under the Imperius Curse, and others were forced to do Voldemort's bidding. They were essentially cannon fodder. How could we use lethal spells against them?"

"We were at war," Harry hissed. "During wartime, such thoughts should not have been entertained. You could have ended the threat of Voldemort long before I was born. Do you know what your problem was? You thought _only_ about Voldemort – his actions and later his Horcruxes, but nothing about the effects he had on the wider world. His Death Eaters were just as bad, but you never truly tackled that problem! Dumbledore, forget about everything else, had the Statute of Secrecy been breached irrevocably, we would have been forced into a war with the Muggles! You were the Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W., and protecting the Statute was your primary duty! Why didn't you ever think of that?"

"Not all Muggles are bad, Harry," the headmaster said stiffly. "The times we now live are different."

Harry shook his head in disgust. "You're deluded," he snorted. "Grindelwald may have gone about it the wrong way, but he did have a point. Who is the Statute of Secrecy trying to protect? Us, or them?"

"You're treading down a very dark path, Harry," warned Dumbledore, coughing once more. The blood he spat out was jet black.

The teenager smiled thinly. "People like you always assume that those who see Muggles as a threat are a danger to the society at large, and you would immediately label us Dark Lords," he said softly. "But the problem is that you, Dumbledore, along with the rest of the world, are too busy ignoring the signs all around you, blinded by your arrogance and ignorance. I'm not Grindelwald and Voldemort. Rest assured of that. However, that does not mean I will sit idly by and watch our world get torn apart. If I have to convince everyone to open their eyes and see the truth, no matter how long it takes, I shall do so. No child shall ever grow up the way I did, the way my brother did."

Dumbledore gasped as he felt his throat contracting, as though someone was choking him. He turned to his right and saw a dark look on Harry's face.

"I really wish I could just snap your neck for your actions," said Harry in a low voice. "I wish I could repay you for all the suffering you have put me through. My parents, Sirius, my childhood, you trying to manipulate me at school, you sacrificing Daphne and Dylan – I wish I would give you back for each one of them."

Just when he thought he was going to die, Dumbledore coughed violently as Harry released his grip. The old man kept coughing, his lungs too weak to stop.

"But I can't," muttered Harry. "No matter what you did, you are still a great wizard, and I respect that. Besides, I've already killed you in a way, right? I've avenged my parents' deaths. I'm content. Goodbye, Dumbledore. May Mother Magic help your soul find purpose again."

Dumbledore looked at Harry's retreating back and mentally sighed in resignation.

 _I have truly created yet another Dark Lord_ , he thought. _That's three times in a row._

 _First Gellert, then Tom, and now Harry …_

Filled with guilt, the great wizard closed his eyes for the last time as darkness overcame him. Albus Dumbledore was dead.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry silently walked towards the entrance hall when someone grabbed him. With surprising speed, the young man turned and was about to cast a powerful banishing charm on the person when he stopped.

"Professor Trelawney?" asked Harry curiously. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Sybill Trewalney did not look good. In fact, she had dark circles under her eyes and she looked like she was having a seizure. Harry wondered if she was unwell.

"Professor, do you want me to take you to Madam Pomfrey?"

The Seer didn't speak. Her right eye was twitching as she spoke in a hoarse voice.

" _The one with the power to restore balance has been chosen ... the one who has already fulfilled the terms of a prophecy, the one marked by the Dark Lord as his equal. He shall emerge at a time when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon. The ones cursed by Magic have begun their path to chaos ... the balance shall be broken, the secret ousted, and a holy war shall end it all. Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that shall decide our fate. The one chosen by Magic, touched by Death, flanked by tigress and wolf, will be forced to restore balance, but should he fail, Magic shall consume us all. The Saviour of Magic has been chosen ... chosen to fulfil his destiny ..."_

Harry stood very still and quiet as Trelawney recited the prophecy to him. His mind was spinning as he realised that she had given him a true prophecy. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to understand its wordings ... what could it mean?

The Divination Professor coughed and blinked her eyes repeatedly.

"Maybe I should cut down on the cooking sherry," she said to herself. "Oh, hello dear, is there something you wanted to say to me?"

He looked at her intently but finally shook his head. "No, Professor. Please excuse me."

Trelawney looked at him weirdly. "If you say so," she murmured. "Now where did I put my cards? Ah, here they are! Five of spades ..."

Behind a statute, Luna Lovegood was standing quietly, having heard the prophecy in its entirety. She would have to inform her grandfather about this.

This was what her vision was about.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Daphne narrowed her eyes as she heard the prophecy which Trelawney had recited. Ordinarily, she would have dismissed it as junk. After all, the woman was well-known at Hogwarts for making up fake predictions that never really came true. But she also knew that Trelawney had been the one that originally prophesied the defeat of Lord Voldemort at the hands of an infant born at the end of July to parents who had thrice defied him. So, there must be some truth to it.

"It does talk about you," she said after a pause. "You've already fulfilled the terms of her previous prophecy and were marked by the Dark Lord. But I can't seem to understand the rest."

"Tigress and wolf," said a voice quietly from the other side of the room. Dylan looked at them with piercing grey eyes. "That's us. Makes sense now why the magic of the Hallows was gifted to us too, huh?"

"Who are these long-forgotten allies?" muttered Harry, swirling the memory in the Pensieve with the tip of his wand. "And what balance is she speaking of?"

"Don't forget that she mentioned a war," said Daphne quietly.

Harry took a deep breath as he rubbed his temples. Just when he was out of the shadow of Trelawney's prophecy, she comes up with another!

"Harry," whispered Daphne, placing her hand on his. "Whatever the future holds – war or not, I'm with you. You're not alone."

"Exactly," said Dylan firmly. He kneeled down in front of his brother and placed his hand on top of theirs. "I won't leave you either. You're my brother, and it is my duty to protect you and Daphne, no matter how dangerous the situation is. And that means you'll always have me by your side."

A faint smile formed on Harry's lips as he put an arm around both of them and pulled them into a tight hug. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The future was uncertain, but as Grandfather Alfred had said, he was not alone.

No matter what happened, he had Daphne and Dylan by his side. And that was enough to give him the courage to move forward.


	42. The Start of a Revolution

**_Chapter 42_**

 ** _The Start of a Revolution_**

 _ **T**_ _ **wo years later ...**_

 _ **June 2008**_

"– the concept of Elemental Transfiguration would apply in the case of food as well. While it is not possible to conjure food according to Gamp's second law of Elemental Transfiguration, it is quite possible to conjure or transfigure our surroundings for food," explained Harry as he demonstrated and proved his hypothesis to the members of the _International Transfiguration Committee for Aspiring Masters_. "This does not disprove the second law, but it does make it an exception. While cooked food cannot be conjured, plants and animals can be transfigured from our surroundings and can be used as food. Since we are transfiguring the elemental properties here, the molecular components of the said transfigured objects will be altered. Of course, this also depends upon the nature of the Transfiguration itself. Simple magic cannot alter the substance, but elemental Transfiguration can."

Nearly eighteen-year-old Harry James Potter looked expectantly at the group of witches and wizards in front of him. This was the last presentation. He had already finished the ones for Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions, having successfully completed his Masters' in all of them, the youngest to do so in the last century. Now, he would be receiving his Master's degree in Transfiguration as well.

"You have given us a lot to think about, Mr Potter," said one of the examiners after a pause. "Your research paper will be submitted to other Transfiguration experts to see if it can indeed be classified as an exception to Gamp's second law of Elemental Transfiguration. Before we wrap up your presentation, I was wondering if you could demonstrate the Animagus transformation as well."

"Of course, Master Fin," said Harry politely as he transformed into a golden eagle, gliding around the room, and finally reverted to his human form with a _pop_.

"Congratulations, Mr Potter," announced Master Fin. "You have successfully completed your Masters' in Transfiguration. Good luck with your future endeavours."

"Thank you," said Harry with a small smile as he accepted his certificate. Once he finished shaking hands with everyone, he walked out of the building and Apparated to _The Olympus_ , the best upscale hotel in Magical Greece where he had been staying for the past few days while he presented his thesis to the Transfiguration Committee. Paying the bill, and ignoring the awed look coming from the manager at meeting the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Apparated to the International European Floo Terminal and Flooed back to Britain.

After passing through customs and security, he stepped inside one of the public Floo systems in the building. With a flash of green flames, he found himself in the massive Atrium in the Ministry of Magic building in London. He flicked his fingers and dispelled any soot that might have collected on his clothes and swiftly moved towards the golden lifts. Flashing his ring to the security wizards, he stepped inside the lifts and waited. Many Ministry employees entered along with him, staring at him with something akin to admiration on their faces.

A minute later, the golden grills opened once more and the cool female voice said, " _Level one, Offices of the Minister of Magic, Chief Warlock, and support staff._ "

Harry calmly walked out of the lifts. The place was covered with thick purple carpets and shining wooden plates on the walls. Important delegates were being shown in and out, and as were various members of the Wizengamot. This richly decorated corridor was deserted as compared to the bustling floors above. With confident strides, Harry entered the reception area outside the office of the Minister of Magic.

Tapping his fingers on the desk of the receptionist, he said in a low voice, "Jenny, is my father busy?"

"Lord Potter!" gushed the receptionist. Clearing her throat, she looked at her file which showed the Minister's schedule. "I'm afraid he's in a meeting with the Brazilian Ambassador for the next twenty minutes. Shall I inform him of your arrival?"

"It's fine," said Harry easily. "I'll wait for the meeting to conclude. Let my father know that I've arrived once the Ambassador has left."

Taking a seat in one of the plush couches in the room, Harry sighed in contentment as a house-elf popped in front of him to offer a chilled glass of Butterbeer. Being the son of the Minister of Magic had its perks.

As he silently observed his surroundings, he felt his thoughts drift to what had happened over the last two years.

Voldemort's death had created a boom in Magical Britain, both in terms of new businesses and in terms of population. Even after the Dark Lord's downfall in 1991, people had still been terrified and the economy had taken a long time to recover, but after the second and final defeat, the economy had not yet taken such massive damage as it had done the last time. Quickly recovering, young witches and wizards had helped the country grow. It had been wonderful to watch. Thanks to the money they had been given from Lockhart as compensation, Fred and George Weasley had managed to easily open their joke stop at the same time in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. From what Harry had been told by the twins, their business was booming and the two of them couldn't be happier.

Things had changed at Hogwarts as well. Albus Dumbledore's death had been announced to everyone and it had created a glum mood. The cause of death had been revealed to be an ancient curse which the Headmaster had accidentally triggered while exploring an unusual place a year before. His funeral was well attended by several witches and wizards from not only Britain but around the world, all who had come to pay their final respects to the former leader of the International Confederation of Wizards. Some of the Hogwarts staff had wanted to bury Dumbledore at Hogwarts, but Harry and Sirius had put their foot down. His body had been at Hogwarts while people paid their respects, but he had been buried at Godric's Hollow near the graves of his mother and sister.

Once Professor McGonagall had been confirmed as Headmistress of Hogwarts, Harry decided that there were certain changes that needed to take place to get the school back on track to how it was decades ago and thankfully, Headmistress McGonagall agreed.

While Harry genuinely believed that Dumbledore had removed several subjects because he didn't want more dark witches and wizards in Britain, McGonagall's theory was that because of the massive decline in the number of students, Hogwarts just could not afford to have so many electives and extra-curricular activities. As the number of students drastically decreased because of the Grindelwald and Voldemort wars, so did the income of the school through the fees being paid, which meant classes had to be cut down to bare essentials and that also meant fewer teachers. However, both she and the Board of Governors believed that time was ripe to get all those classes back in the school curriculum.

Along with the subjects already taught, Hogwarts now had classes for Warding, Healing, Magical Languages, Enchanting, Politics, Magical Finance, Magical Law and Elementary Alchemy. Muggle Studies was given new material which gave accurate information about what Muggles were up to, including the destruction caused by the two world wars. It was time for the magical world realised that Muggles were indeed dangerous and the curriculum ensured that everyone knew about the effects of nuclear weapons, environmental pollution, and high population. This was made compulsory for the first and second year magically raised students while Magical Culture was made compulsory for all first and second-year Muggle-borns.

Defence Against the Dark Arts took a massive overhaul as it was split into two separate subjects – Defensive Magic and Offensive Magic. This was something Harry had insisted on because most of the magic which fell under the purview of grey was never taught, for Dumbledore did not like anything remotely dark being taught at Hogwarts, thus lowering the standard of education in the process. Offensive Magic included combat magic which fell under the category of grey and hence, Harry was happy with it.

There were staff changes as well. McGonagall had found a good replacement for her old position and some might actually argue that the new teacher was stricter than McGonagall had been in teaching the subject, which Dylan wholeheartedly agreed after he received a detention for messing around in her class.

Professor Trelawney was asked to step down and the subject of Divination was now not offered at Hogwarts. Divination was an important branch of magic but the truth of the matter was that it could not be taught. You either had the sight or you didn't, very much like being a Metamorphmagus, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. It was as useless as trying to teach a regular witch or wizard Parseltongue; it just wasn't worth it. After receiving numerous complaints, the new Headmistress also replaced Hagrid with a trained Master for Care of Magical Creatures. As much as Hagrid was knowledgeable, the injuries in his classes were hard to ignore.

Harry also donated two hundred thousand Galleons to the Hogwarts Improvement Fund. Sirius, through the Department of Magical Revenue, had been quick to follow with a tax deduction for anyone willing to donate to Hogwarts and the rest of the smaller schools of Magical Britain. The donations had been quickly put to use as the castle was renovated and cleaned thoroughly until it sparkled. A whole bunch of duelling dummies were brought in for the new Duelling Room; hundreds of new library books were purchased; three new Greenhouses were constructed, which now included some of the best and rare plants from around the world; a whole new range of potions ingredients were imported from several different countries and new Quidditch brooms were purchased for the first years, much to the relief of Madam Hooch.

New state of the art magical telescopes were to be purchased for the Astronomy department, but Harry took it to a whole new level. He contacted the company which produced the working sized model of the galaxy with all the stars and planets in it and made them install a much larger and detailed version of it in the Astronomy Tower, which enabled all the students to view the stars at the same time, much like a planetarium, which enhanced the teaching experience. It also helped in that it could be used during the day, so there were no more Astronomy classes which were held at night.

Harry had also negotiated with different companies and personally saw to the development of the Hogwarts Magical Creatures Sanctuary. A wide variety of different magical creatures were brought in and a lot of enlargement charms were placed in an environment which best suited their needs. Since they had a lot of room, the creatures were very comfortable. This would greatly help during Care of Magical Creatures lessons and Hagrid was overjoyed to take care of the creatures' needs daily.

The Quidditch pitch was increased in size and Miller's Mirrors were installed everywhere so that people could watch the players' progress more clearly. Several Quidditch hoops were placed at different parts of the grounds so that other students who wanted to play Quidditch could do so as well without interfering with the teams' practice sessions. In fact, the main Quidditch pitch now had a roof; but this roof was so far away from the ground that it didn't really matter as a large array of expansion and other charms and enchantments were used to make the pitch meet international standards. This had the added bonus of playing during the winter as well, so matches could be held throughout the year with more frequency.

Classrooms were buffed and revamped, as the old furniture was thrown out and new desks and chairs with the latest magical technology were purchased. Several different rooms were allotted for different clubs, which would greatly enhance their work. Seven large rooms were furnished where members of different Houses of each year could sit down and do their homework or enjoy each other's company; it was basically a common room for each year. The staff hoped that this would promote inter-House unity, especially considering the tensions between the Houses that were visibly decreasing.

Filch was asked to behave with the students and this caused a temper tantrum with the old caretaker, as he finally resigned in anger. McGonagall politely asked him to apply for a job in Azkaban. He probably would be happier taking care of the prisoners there rather than treat the students of Hogwarts as prisoners. New teachers were brought in as well, reducing the workload of the current staff, much to their relief.

All in all, Hogwarts was shaping up to once more be one of the premier schools in Magical Europe.

At the Ministry of Magic, Sirius was doing a fine job. He was still well loved by the magical populace and after the death of Voldemort and Dumbledore, the Wizengamot was more united than it had been in a century. Narcissa Malfoy had swiftly taken control of the Malfoy seat while Theodore Nott's mother had done the same. Using the opportunity that was presented to him, Sirius had enacted quite a few laws for the betterment of the people.

The werewolves were still not willing to cooperate even after the death of Greyback but at least they hadn't been as hostile as they had been before. Relations with the Centaurs had improved after the Ministry stopped bothering them, scrapping all those departments which tended to communicate with Centaurs, Merpeople and other magical creatures, letting them mind their own business.

All frivolous sub-departments and offices were consolidated into bigger sub-departments, making work run smoother. Thanks to the good education now being provided at Hogwarts and the Ministry taking an active interest in the smaller schools of Magical Britain, better-qualified employees were being hired by the Ministry instead of the toadies that Fudge preferred when he was in office.

On a personal level, Harry and Daphne's relationship had deepened considerably. The war against Voldemort had been a test to see if they could survive, and seeing that they could, had given them a sense of confidence with each other which they did not have before. They had also slowly matured out of the teen phase, accepting that they were now adults and had to behave as such. Harry had lived at Hogwarts for the last two years as he apprenticed under the professors while Daphne also finished her education. Thanks to Harry's tutoring and her own rigorous practice and training schedule over the years, Daphne had been able to take her N.E.W.T.s a year in advance, thus giving her a full year with Professors Flitwick and Vector to complete her Charms and Arithmancy Masters'.

With Harry's and her mentors' help, along with plenty of sleepless nights, she was able to catch up quickly, and her presentations for both degrees were to be scheduled in a week in New York City. This would greatly help because they had planned to go on a world tour right after they obtained their Master's degrees. Of course, they were getting married before leaving too.

Dylan had also matured over the last two years. Gone was the shy, insecure boy that he had been when he had entered the magical world. The war had most definitely hardened him considering that he had been personally involved, and his relationship with Harry had also deepened over time. He was as good as Harry's shadow, his loyalty unshakable. Dylan's relationship with Astoria had bumps along the road just like Harry and Daphne's had too, but they had still managed to work it out together. They didn't know what the future offered, but they were happy with each other for the moment and they stuck to that.

There was also another venture which the Ministry of Magic had undertaken. Both Sirius and Harry had known about the large Acromantula nest in the Forbidden Forest, very close to the school. Knowing that such a nest shouldn't be anywhere near a school full of students, the Ministry had teamed up with a company in Indonesia to transport the Acromantulas from the forest to their new homes. It was much safer for the students, not to mention profitable for the government as Acromantula silk was highly valued all over the world, not only for clothes but other products as well. Harry had wondered how Hagrid would react to it, but it turned out that after the half-giant's friend Aragog had died, the rest of the Acromantulas had become more violent, thus necessitating the transfer at all costs. It took all of two years for the forest to lose the darkish gloom that was present due to the infestation of hundreds of Acromantulas, but the change was noticeable. Several other magical creatures had started coming out, now not having to fear for their lives because of the giant spiders.

"Lord Potter, Minister Black is available for you now," announced the receptionist. Harry blinked in surprise, having been lost in thought. Nodding to her, he knocked on the polished mahogany door and entered the room. His adoptive father was sitting behind the large desk at the far end, looking quite exhausted.

"Harry!" Sirius beamed at him, getting up to give his son a hug. "Congratulations on becoming a Transfiguration Master!"

"Thanks, Dad," replied Harry, a hint of a smile forming on his face. "It's nice to finally get it over with."

"When is Daphne's presentation?"

"Next week, in New York City," he said, taking a seat opposite to the Minister. "Once she's done, we're both planning on touring the world for a few years. We're hoping to gain a Sorcerer's degree as well."

Sirius whistled. "Never going to give up on learning more, are you kiddo?" he teased. "James and Lily would be proud of you."

Harry simply smiled.

"I need to know where you'll be going and when. Even though it will be for educational purposes, there's no harm in building international relations that will be beneficial in the future. In fact, the respective magical governments will most definitely invite you for dinner or a party because not only are you the Boy-Who-Lived, but you're also the son of the British Minister of Magic. It's expected for you to meet with them."

Harry nodded. This would definitely reap benefits in the future. While the name of Potter held a lot of influence in Britain because of the four votes he had on the Wizengamot, none of that was relevant outside the country. Sirius and Amelia had their power block internationally, but that was mostly restricted to Magical Europe. In order to increase his influence and power, Harry would need to befriend powerful people from around the world and expand his circle. And this would be most beneficial.

"I'll patch you through with someone from the Department of International Magical Cooperation," continued Sirius. "They can set up appointments when you inform them of whichever country you are in."

"Understood," answered Harry. He paused, looking hesitant. "There's something I would like to talk to you about."

"You remember the prophecy I told you about, right?"

Sirius rubbed his temples with his fingers. That was most definitely not something he wanted to discuss. He and Amelia had been shocked to the core when Harry had revealed the contents of Trelawney's latest prophecy to them. Having braved two wars with Voldemort, neither of them was keen for another. The prophecy was vague, referring to those 'cursed by Magic'. What that meant, Sirius did not know.

Was it a group of dark wizards? According to Harry, however, it was the Muggles. And that topic was never easy for anyone to discuss. Many witches and wizards had tried to walk the same path and had failed, leading to enormous destruction and loss of lives.

Gellert Grindelwald had been the most dangerous of them all. Voldemort was close, but he just couldn't compete with the likes of Grindelwald, partly due to his lack of sanity and charisma; that insanity had destroyed any chance of the former gaining power abroad, while the latter had followers all over the world. Voldemort had been a power-hungry madman who many abroad referred to as a rabid dog, while his predecessor was an extremely intelligent wizard who the world looked up to for trying to solve the problems the International Statute of Secrecy had created. Grindelwald had created a scenario where he had managed to get half the international magical population to unite against the Muggles.

His words, _'Who is the law trying to protect, us or them?'_ were infamous, and Sirius knew that even Harry agreed with Grindelwald in that regard. The man's actions, however, led to his downfall. His radical claim that the end justified the means led to the deaths of thousands of witches and wizards, and by the mid-1950s, Grindelwald was not as popular as he once was. Had Dumbledore not stopped him, a wizard-Muggle war would have been inevitable, especially since it had only been a decade after the end of the Muggle Second World War. Tensions then had still been high.

Sirius had promised himself that he wouldn't let his adopted son walk down a similar path. While Harry genuinely wanted to help witches and wizards, his actions could be misinterpreted by others in the magical world, and that would be dangerous. There were many who were just as awed as they were scared by the sheer magical power that the young man held at his fingertips. Sirius knew that Harry was correct. He was not an idiot. He had read his history books and had survived two wars. However, the boy's policies were too revolutionary for people to accept. Sirius couldn't help but think that Harry's ideas for the future of the magical world were just not practical, but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to listen. While others would scoff at Divination, the patriarch of the Black family did not underestimate the ancient art. The power of Fate should never be underestimated.

"Harry, I know what you're going to say," he said quietly. "But you have to understand that your actions are too radical. I doubt the Wizengamot will even listen to you."

"This is not about the Muggle-born children, Dad," Harry said softly. _Not yet, at least._ "This is something completely different. I have spent two years on this idea, so will you hear me out?"

The Minister nodded wearily.

Harry's _Avada Kedavra_ green eyes gazed outside the windows. While the Boy-Who-Lived held sufficient sway with the masses, he knew that he couldn't implement his major reforms without his adoptive parents supporting him. Harry was still eighteen years old and had not entered the political sphere. His ideas had to be delivered through the Minister of Magic, and the sooner that happened, the better. His focus was not the development of Magical Britain; that could be left to his father. His goal was something bigger, but for that, he would have to start small, right here at home.

"I know that the prophecy freaked you out. To be honest, I was, and still am, unnerved by it. But we can't ignore what it says. We have dealt with a prophecy before. Trying to stop what is going to happen by talking drastic steps will actually create a self-fulfilling prophecy. Voldemort learnt that the hard way when he tried to kill me as a child. I don't want that. I don't want a war. However, I will not sit back and ignore what Trelawney said either. Dad, I honestly don't know what my destiny truly is, but I will not back away from it, no matter what the consequences."

"I never expected you to," muttered Sirius, staring into the distance. It was not in Harry's nature to ever be on the sidelines. If he put his mind to something, nothing could stop him. Voldemort's death was proof of that.

Harry flicked his wand, summoning several newspapers. He spread them out on Sirius' desk. "Look at the headlines," he said. "Tensions in the Muggle world are growing, Dad, and it's not something that is going to disappear. Unfortunately, Voldemort's actions did not help matters at all. Right now, we're in a very tight spot."

"How so?"

"If London were to be attacked by Muggles due to another war, what would happen to Diagon Alley or the Ministry building? Or St Mungo's?"

Sirius frowned. "Our various protective enchantments should take care of it, Harry. After all, the Ministry headquarters, St Mungo's, and Diagon Alley didn't even suffer a starch during the Muggle Second World War during the bombing. What makes you think the wards won't hold?"

"Two words," shot back Harry. "Nuclear weapons."

Sirius remained silent.

"How are we to know when those filthy Muggles would use those contraptions?" asked Harry, a hint of anger showing on his face. "Can you imagine the repercussions of such an attack? Diagon Alley houses tens of thousands of witches and wizards. Magical Britain's entire economy is regulated by Gringotts. All our treasures are located there. If London were to be attacked, do you think the bank and all its treasures, not to mention the magical citizens of this city, would survive? What about the Ministry building itself?"

"And how do you propose we protect ourselves? Create a massive shield around the entire city?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "First of all, powering and maintaining such a shield would be ridiculously expensive around a Muggle city. Second, why should we waste our gold on the non-magical population? We won't be in danger if witches and wizards don't function among Muggles. If we're in a completely different area, how could the infighting of the Muggles affect us?"

 _How could the Muggles find us, if the Statute is ever broken, if we're completely invisible to their sensors, away from their major cities?_

Sirius barked out a laugh. "When I said that your ideas were radical, I really didn't think you would go this far," he said, smiling in amusement. "You want to relocate the Ministry headquarters, St Mungo's Hospital, several wizarding homes in London, and all of Diagon Alley?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, kiddo, but that's just not practical. Can you even imagine the amount of the gold required for such a massive undertaking? Our tax revenue will never be enough to cover such expansion."

"I know that," answered Harry quickly, "which is why I have a plan for us to work with. Tell me, why is Hogsmeade the only non-Muggle settlement in all of Magical Britain? Why has there been no effort from anyone to expand the village and convert it into a city? Why not create more non-Muggle settlements like that, with only witches and wizards as residents?"

"As I already told you, it's all because of money. The Ministry would have done it if we had the money."

Harry smirked. He removed a thick file from within his backpack and passed it to his adoptive father. With a casual wave of his hand, a large mirror appeared in front of them, the screen displaying charts and diagrams for him to explain.

"Getting the money to construct a new city has been impossible until now," he explained. "That's the reason the Ministry headquarters has been underground for so many centuries. After the implantation of the International Statute of Secrecy –"

"– people found it convenient to use the underground building, so they never bothered to shift to another location," finished Sirius, looking very interested. "Go on."

"The problem we have right now is that witches and wizards are scattered all over the country, residing in various Muggle areas. However, that will prove to be very dangerous if a situation ever develops where the Statute is irrevocably breached or if there is another Muggle war. However, if we have purely magical cities, with large residential and commercial dwellings together, we wouldn't have to worry about an attack. Maintaining the Statute of Secrecy will also be less of a burden because it would be a non-Muggle area."

"In theory, it's a wonderful plan," replied Sirius, "and something which has existed in other parts of the world for hundreds of years now. The concept of non-Muggle cities is not a problem. The topic has been debated many times over the years by members of the Wizengamot, but the questions have always been about where these cities would be located and how to fund them. With the amount of corruption in the Ministry, the plans never made the light of day."

"I'm getting to that. Hogsmeade is readily available. There is empty land for several kilometres without any Muggle activity around the village. Converting it into a city wouldn't be much of a hassle. However, there is another dwelling that has several magical families residing in it, but it has quite a few Muggles there as well."

"Godric's Hollow."

"Yes," smiled Harry, pleased that his father was grasping it so quickly. "That village is our oldest settlement, dating back to the time of Lord Ignotus Peverell, long before King Arthur ascended to the throne. It's the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor and has a very historical significance for everyone in Magical Britain. Shouldn't that be converted into a non-Muggle dwelling as well?"

"Not possible," replied Sirius, shaking his head. "There are already Muggles who are living in the village –"

"We can move them to another place," interrupted Harry. "I know what you're going to say, but think about it. We can compensate those Muggles by giving them money and a Confundus Charm should take care of them if they don't want to leave. Their stupid paper currency is quite cheap, you know. It would be a pittance to buy the Muggle properties. We can make a deal with the witches and wizards of Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow. Those who already own houses there will only have to pay the minimum amount required for the new building. The Ministry can construct several houses by outsourcing it to various magical construction companies from around the world. Different designs, various sizes, with different configurations, and all of them can be sold once they are ready. Since the Ministry owns the land through compulsory acquisition, you can make quite a profit from the sale, and use that money to construct a third city, the one that will house the headquarters of the British Ministry of Magic – a city named Camelot. I'm sure you can find a deserted stretch of land for it."

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise when he looked through the various sheets of parchment. "You consulted a team of Confederation Certified Accountants to actually create a budget?"

"I didn't want to approach you until I had all the details figured out," answered Harry honestly. "You'll see that the Ministry would be self-sufficient for the construction of Camelot. Sure, you'll need initial capital for Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow, but that can be arranged through the I.C.W."

Sirius nodded. Harry was silent for the next thirty minutes as his father meticulously went through the projected finances. Finally, the older man broke the silence. "I'm very impressed, Harry," he said sincerely. "You're right; this is certainly plausible. Diagon Alley and the various other shopping districts throughout the country can be shifted to any of the three cities."

Mentally, Harry nodded in satisfaction. The first phase of his plan was set in motion. Convincing Sirius had been the initial step, but he could see that his father was very much considering it. The benefits of this project were just too hard to ignore. Keeping their distance from the Muggles world meant a reduction in taxes and better control over the Statute of Secrecy.

"I'll form a committee to look into this before tabling it in front of the Wizengamot," announced Sirius. "I'll let you know of any progress."

Harry agreed as he walked out of Sirius' office a couple of hours later, having given the Minister of Magic everything he had planned for the development of the magical cities. Really, such projects should have been implemented a long time ago. Most of the world had moved ahead, and Britain was still content with staying underground in Muggle populated areas. But that was not Harry's agenda. He wanted the magical populace as far away from the Muggles as possible, and these plans would ensure of that. Within a span of five to seven years, construction and rehabilitation would be complete. Then, he would implement stage two of his plan for completely separating from the Muggle world.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry opened his eyes and found himself standing in front of the massive gates of Hogwarts castle. With a spring in his step, he walked towards the front doors of the castle. The grounds had changed over the past two years. The cool evening air ruffled his hair as he caught several of the younger year students enjoying the end of their exams while the older years studied for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Many were playing Quidditch with the various hoops that were placed all over the grounds.

At a distance, Harry could spot the large dome-shaped structure near the Forbidden Forest. That was the Hogwarts Magical Creatures Sanctuary, housing many magical creatures that Hagrid happily took care of. A hint of a smile formed on his face as he entered the castle, quickly walking to his intended destination. The locket he wore around his neck gave out a pulse of magic, informing him of her location, and his heart began beating faster.

After all, it had been nearly a month since he had seen her. He had been away due to the various presentations he had to give for claiming his Master's degrees. But now, he was finally home ... and he couldn't wait to have her in his arms.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"I just want to get these exams over with," grumbled Astoria. She was in the Hogwarts library, studying for her O.W.L.s. "They're driving me crazy!"

Dylan chuckled from beside her. He took her hand and kissed her fingers delicately. "How about a distraction, Miss Greengrass?" he asked coyly.

Astoria smirked. "What do you have in mind?" she whispered.

"You both aren't going anywhere," said Daphne suddenly from behind her book. Her eyes narrowed. "You have exams tomorrow."

"Oh, come on Daph, we know it all!" whined Dylan.

Astoria nodded frantically. "And I could really use a massage," she said quickly. "It will definitely help us relax."

Daphne's lips twitched. "From personal experience, I know that a massage will quickly turn into sex," she said wryly, making the two younger teenagers redden in embarrassment. Blue eyes twinkling in amusement, she added, "Just keep your lovemaking to your room, will you? I don't want to walk in on you in the common room. Oh, and silencing charms would be most appreciated."

Dylan snorted. "That's like the pot calling the kettle black," he muttered as he quickly steered Astoria away. "I've spent the last three years getting used to them having sex in the suite's common room while I do my homework. You'd think they'd be more considerate since I live with them too, but nooo ..."

"You know what? I'm feeling rebellious!" declared Astoria, smirking at her sister. "If she and Harry don't care about privacy, why should we too? Come on, Dylan, that sofa in the common room looks quite comfortable!"

"Happy humping!" Daphne called out loudly to the couple.

"Shhhhh!" the librarian, Madam Pince, admonished from her position a few feet away, looking angry. Muttering under her breath, she walked away, glaring at any other student who would dare speak loudly in her library.

Daphne stuck her tongue out at Dylan playfully which he returned. Chuckling, she went back to her Arithmancy notes as she prepared for her presentation that was due in a week's time. After that, she would be a certified master in the fields of Charms and Arithmancy, paving the way for higher studies in the field of Enchanting. Her fingers kept drumming on the table as she tried to think of anything other than her fiancé. She missed Harry terribly.

Exhaling in frustration, she got up and headed to the Restricted Section to refer to another book on Advanced Spell-Crafting. Just when she was browsing through the thick tomes of books, she felt someone wrap their arms around her waist, their chin resting on her shoulder.

She closed her eyes in contentment as she leaned against his strong, muscular chest.

"Miss me?"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _After watching 'Fantastic Beasts', I really have to wonder how much more powerful Grindelwald was as compared to Voldemort. Magically, not sure . . . but if we consider their intelligence and talent, the former will win hands down. Voldemort was a maniac and a lunatic, pure and simple, but Grindelwald was more cunning and calculative, don't you think?_**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	43. Parents and Children

**_Chapter 43_**

 ** _Parents and Children_**

Hermione Granger rubbed her eyes tiredly as she shut the book she was reading with a snap. It was past six in the evening and she was in the Hogwarts library, studying for her N.E.W.T.s that were scheduled in two days. The stress of the exams was really getting to her and she found herself snapping at several people over the past few weeks.

Seven years ... it had been nearly seven years since she had entered the magical world, and Hermione's life had taken a complete turn since the day she found out about being a witch. Throughout her childhood, there were instances and situations that happened that she could never explain. Her parents were quite worried, but the doctors could never find anything wrong with her. Finally, a few weeks before her eleventh birthday, a woman named Professor McGonagall had come to her house and informed her that she was a witch.

Naturally, she had been ecstatic with the information she was given. Her parents were leery about the concept of magic and about sending their only daughter to an unknown place for ten months a year, but Hermione had managed to convince them. After all, Hogwarts was the best magical school in all of Magical Britain, according to the good professor. Also, since she was born in September 1989, she would have to wait a full year to attend Hogwarts and that gave her enough time to buy books on magic and be prepared for school. Her parents had been awed by what they had seen in Diagon Alley too, and fully supported her decision in studying magic before school started.

Her favourite book of all had been Hogwarts, A History. Professor McGonagall had explained to her about the magical world, but Hermione wanted to learn more. She was quite thrilled to read stories about great wizards such as Godric Gryffindor and Albus Dumbledore who fought for Muggle rights and defeated evil wizards like Salazar Slytherin and Gellert Grindelwald. However, the more she read, the more she thought that the magical world was very backward. So much of what they did was so idiotic, in her opinion. The concept of using birds for mail, quills and parchment for writing, and gold coins for currency was archaic, while in comparison, the Muggle world was so much more advanced.

Of course, she realised later that a few of her theories were wrong. The magical form of parchment was used because paper would dissolve quickly due to potion fumes (she had learnt that lesson the hard way in her first year of school). But the very concept of blood purity infuriated her! Hermione had been determined to get sorted into Gryffindor when she arrived at Hogwarts because she looked up to Albus Dumbledore and the founder of the house of lions, and thus wanted to be like them. Gryffindor House seemed like the best of them all, with their values of bravery and standing up to dark wizards who wanted to harm Muggles. It was natural that she would be drawn there.

When she first met Harry Potter, the famed Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione had thought that he was a very cold person. The way he contradicted her during the train ride only served to reinforce that fact. She didn't bother talking to him after that incident because of the jittery nerves of the sorting ceremony. Hermione remembered that the Sorting Hat was quite convinced that she would do well in Ravenclaw, but she had persisted, forcing the Hat to put her in Gryffindor instead. Unfortunately, everything was not rosy in the lion's den. She quickly realized that just like in primary school, she had managed to alienate herself with her attitude. She had been growing distressed as the weeks passed by, and Ron Weasley's words on Halloween had only embarrassed her more.

Hermione didn't want to think about what might have happened had the prefects not arrived in time to save her from the troll. She probably would have died.

She was determined more than ever to study hard after that incident. After Ron Weasley had tentatively apologised to her after the attack by the troll, the two of them had become friends. She would help him with his homework most of the time, but it was still friendship. At the end of the year, she had been elated to find out that she had stood first among all the students in Gryffindor, only for her happiness to evaporate when she found out that she was not the first among her batch in the school.

No, that title had gone to Daphne Greengrass. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had never returned to their class after the Christmas holidays. He had been accepted into the accelerated program at the school. Hermione knew that the boy must have done it only through his fame, for how could he have been offered that chance while she hadn't? She was one of the top students in her year! She could practically recite her textbook word for word! And yet, she had not been offered the chance to be enrolled in the accelerated program. It frustrated her to no end when she stood third in their year. In her Muggle school, she was _always_ first, and she hadn't been able to digest this fact.

As the years passed, her irritation at Harry Potter only grew. No matter what she tried, she could never beat him. He had swiftly proved her wrong to show that he did indeed qualify for the accelerated program by standing first in every exam. Even those who were most vocal about their displeasure in him being in the program had quieted down as Potter had won the respect of the older students. By the time she was a fourth year, the boy who was younger by ten months was a seventh-year student.

However, that was when the two of them began scraping shields. When Hermione found out about the existence of house-elves, she had been horrified. Never had she realised that Hogwarts was home to more than a hundred slaves! She had gone to the library and read about house-elves and realised that such slavery had existed for centuries! Wanting to help those poor creatures, she began hiding clothes in various parts of Gryffindor Tower, hoping that the abused creatures would be set free due to her actions.

That was when Harry Potter had decided to show what a bigoted person he really was. She had actually made progress, freeing a few of the Hogwarts house-elves, and Potter had revealed to her that he had re-bonded the elves back to the castle. She had been apoplectic, and the situation only went downhill. Hermione couldn't understand how Potter could ever think the magical world was as advanced as the Muggle world. From her perspective, everything was so backward! Their culture was barbaric, and they never wanted to accept the new changes that Muggles were coming up with! She had passionately spoken about Muggle-borns, only for Potter to contradict her with names of famous Muggle-borns who had achieved greatness. For everything she said, he had countered with another claim about the so-called magnificence of the magical world.

Her annoyance with Potter never stopped. When You-Know-Who had returned, Ron and Ginny's mother had invited her to stay with the Weasleys for the summer for protection. Her parents had gone abroad during the holidays, so she had happily accepted the offer. She was ecstatic when she found out that the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was in one of the Black family properties with a library inside. Unfortunately, she had been unable to get in, despite trying repeatedly. She had been annoyed by Dylan Lestrange's statement about only family members being able to enter, but that was not what drove her over the edge.

How was it that purebloods could perform magic during the holidays while Muggle-borns like her could not? It was fundamentally wrong! The law couldn't be selective, could it? Naturally, Potter being the pureblood bigot that he was, had been quick to point out that the law only existed for the protection of witches and wizards, and that it only applied to children living in Muggle areas. Hermione was not convinced. It sounded like a sham to her. Who else other than Muggle-borns would live in Muggle areas? The law essentially forced the Muggle-borns to remain downtrodden while purebloods could perform magic at their leisure. What annoyed her most was that Potter would convince everyone who was listening that he was always right and that whatever he spouted had absolutely nothing to do with blood purity at all!

She knew that it was a lie.

The Dark Arts ... that was when Hermione saw the true face of Harry Potter. While she had grudgingly admitted that Daphne Greengrass' move had been smart in creating the Defence Association, she had been appalled when Potter taught them the Blood-Boiling Curse and the Organ-Liquefying Curse. Those curses were _never_ taught in class. She found Potter very irresponsible in teaching so many students how to cast it. Those curses were classified as the Dark Arts for a reason, and it could have consequences in the future.

With that in mind, Hermione decided that she had to do something about it, and as a responsible student and prefect, she had informed Professor McGonagall about the D.A. Unfortunately, Greengrass had, without the permission of any of the members, jinxed the parchment, so that what she wanted to say did not register. Instead, she had painted a target on Professor Snape's back. That had been an unmitigated disaster. She had been questioned by Ministry wizards who found the jinx in minutes. However, none of them wanted to get rid of it.

Hermione personally felt that the Minister of Magic did not want his godson in trouble. It infuriated her when Minister Black chewed out Professor Dumbledore and had finally managed to get Professor Snape sacked.

She had been horrified.

But that was not the tragedy ... You-Know-Who had apparently been furious at his spy's dismissal from the Hogwarts staff. Less than a week after Snape had been fired, Hermione was called to Professor McGonagall's office where she was informed about her parents' deaths. She had never been more grief-stricken in her life. Hermione had taken an extended leave of absence from the school after the attack. The tortured bodies of her parents still gave her nightmares. She had cried for her mother and father, but it was no use. They were dead, killed by the Death Eaters, and were not coming back.

She had returned to Hogwarts a month later, having completely missed the Battle of Hogsmeade. Hermione was shocked to find out that the war was over, and that Harry Potter had defeated You-Know-Who, and that Professor Dumbledore had been bed-ridden.

For two years, Hermione had watched Potter and Greengrass from the shadows. While she knew that the Death Eaters were responsible for her parents' demise, that didn't mean those two weren't culpable either! Had Greengrass not jinxed that sheet of parchment, Professor Snape would never have been sacked, and her parents wouldn't have been attacked because of it. Her anger had increased slowly as time passed. When her sixth year started, she was determined more than ever to make her parents proud and to beat Greengrass in all her exams.

It was during her sixth year that Hermione also experienced the pleasures of love. She had met Percy Weasley during her stay at Grimmauld Place the previous year, and the two of them had got along extremely well. Both of them had spoken about a variety of topics then, bonding over their trust in those of authority and their great ambition for their careers. That had continued in her sixth year, and the two had become a couple. Percy helped her slowly get out of the depression she had seeped into after her parents' deaths, sharing his own experiences of how he dealt with his father's death.

As the end of year exams approached, Hermione had tried her level best to beat Greengrass, only to find out that the Slytherin was not writing her sixth-year exams, but instead, was writing her N.E.W.T.s. She had immediately gone to Professor Flitwick, the deputy headmaster, to demand an explanation, only to be told that Greengrass had already passed the sixth year exams and after her teachers had agreed, had been allowed to take her N.E.W.T.s one year in advance.

Hermione had been bitter about that, not to mention very jealous and angry. The girl who had essentially created a scenario that caused her parents to be murdered had been allowed to skip a year? It was pureblood propaganda all over again! Hermione was _sure_ that the only reason the Slytherin had been given that privilege was because she was a pureblood with parents who were wealthy.

She had tried to take her N.E.W.T.s as well, but her teachers had refused. While she could no doubt pass her Transfiguration, Charms and Potions exams, there were several other subjects that were new to her. She had taken the maximum possible subjects, even going so far as to study others on her own. She hadn't been able to cram a year's education in one week. Hermione had been forced to watch as she topped the exams. The only problem was that Greengrass wasn't even on the list of the sixth-year students anymore.

Furious tears pricked Hermione's eyes when she glared hatefully at the couple she had just been thinking about. Those two had directly or indirectly, intentionally or unintentionally, rendered her an orphan. And this time, she wouldn't stew in the shadows. She would demand an answer from them!

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Miss me?" whispered Harry, nibbling on her earlobe delicately.

"You have no idea," replied Daphne softly. She turned around and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. Harry smiled as he lifted her off her feet, lighting twirling her about as he captured her lips in a searing kiss.

"Congratulations, egghead," she smirked. "Six Master's degrees, I'm impressed."

Harry simply rolled his eyes at the 'nickname' that Dylan had come up with. How that brat convinced Daphne to use it, Harry had no idea. "How has it been around here?"

"Nothing new, really, though Granger looks like she's going to burst due to the stress."

He raised an eyebrow. "I guess she didn't like the fact that you took your N.E.W.T.s early?"

"No," confessed Daphne softly. "She never confronted me, but I did hear rumours that she didn't like it. Apparently, she went to Professor Flitwick and asked if she could take the exams early too. Flitwick spoke to her teachers, and many of them felt that Granger wasn't ready to take them yet. While she is quite talented in magic, the new subjects in the curriculum are not something she is familiar with. That didn't stop her from taking as many subjects as possible, though."

"I heard that she's even taking a few without attending classes."

"Yes. She's running herself ragged, and I can't help but feel bad for her; I know how _I've_ slogged over the past year for these two Master's degrees, it certainly wasn't easy. It must be hard, losing her parents so suddenly. I heard that she's trying for a position in the Ministry, but not sure which department."

Harry hummed as they headed towards the door. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's head back to our suite."

She laughed. "You might not what to go there just yet ... not unless you want to catch Dylan and Astoria having sex in our common room."

Harry's lips curved into an amused smile. "Well then, my Lady, will you please accompany me to the Room of Requirement? I have a lot to tell you about my meeting with our esteemed Minister of Magic."

Daphne's eyes lit up. "You spoke to your father about Camelot?" she whispered excitedly.

"Yes, and he's on board. Stage one has begun."

Daphne's face turned serious immediately. "Are you going to venture out later tonight?" she asked.

"Yes," replied Harry, his face darkening. "I need to know, Daph. We can't proceed with stage two unless we know the real-life scenario. Will you come with me?"

"You know I will. Dylan has finished compiling the list. He – hello, Granger, is there something we can do for you?"

The couple stopped at the entrance of the Restricted Section of the library as they spotted Hermione Granger standing in front of them. They looked at her with their faces devoid of emotion. The two of them hadn't spoken to the girl since the day the secret of the Defence Association had nearly been ousted.

Hermione's red-rimmed eyes glared furiously at the couple in front of her. "I've tried to bury my anger at you both for two years," she said waspishly, her eyes filled with tears. "But we'll all be leaving school soon and I wanted to get this out of the way. I want you to know that I will _never_ forgive you for your actions."

Daphne frowned as she casually cast a silencing charm around them with just a hand gesture. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at the bushy-haired girl.

"And what exactly did we do?"

"Your actions caused the deaths of my parents!" yelled Hermione angrily, tears streaming down her face.

Both Harry and Daphne's expressions hardened. "You have our condolences for the deaths of your parents, Granger," said Harry quietly. "But please, tell me, how were we at fault?"

Hermione's parents had died two years ago, just a couple of days before the Battle of Hogsmeade. Voldemort had not been pleased that his trusted spy had been forced to leave Hogwarts and had his displeasure shown – Hermione's parents had been targeted. The Ministry hadn't known about it because no flashy spells were used and no Dark Mark was cast over the sky until after the incident. By the time the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol had arrived at the scene, it was already over. Hermione's parents had been tortured and killed.

"It was _you_ who made us sign on that blasted sheet of parchment!" spat Hermione. "Why did you have to enchant it like that? You could have jinxed it another way! You could have caused pimples to sprout on the face of the person, you could have made their hair turn purple, you could have –"

"None of those measures would have kept the existence of the DA a secret," said Daphne sharply. "I only cared about efficiency, Granger, not embarrassment. Voldemort was doing his best to stamp out every source of rebellion, and that meant poorly educated students graduating from Hogwarts. We formed the DA that year only so that people could defend themselves, and it certainly helped! For your information, many of the teachers here also suspected that there was something going on. Two hundred students cannot disappear without raising suspicion, but they too didn't interfere because they wanted us to learn. My goal was to keep the knowledge of the DA away from Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort. Had Harry not taught so many people, the Battle of Hogsmeade would have been a _massacre!_ I warned everyone that they couldn't tell the teachers about it. I said _couldn't_ , not _shouldn't_. It's not my fault that you chose to betray us!"

"I would never have spoken to Professor McGonagall had Potter not taught us the Dark Arts! Those curses were lethal and are considered dark for a reason!"

"I distinctly remember giving a lecture about the concept of light and dark," replied Harry, his eyes narrowed. "I never forced the theory down your throat, Granger, nor did I force anyone to cast those spells. I don't believe in the concept of magic being branded like that."

Hermione snorted. "If great wizards like Albus Dumbledore believed that the Dark Arts were bad, who are you to protest against it?"

The couple stilled and their auras lashed out of their bodies at the very mention of the deceased headmaster. The air thickened with raw magic and their eyes began glowing with suppressed rage. Hermione actually shuddered involuntarily as their presence enveloped the room.

Albus Dumbledore was a topic neither of them wanted to talk about.

"Leave that bastard's name out of this discussion," said Daphne in a low voice, squeezing her fiancé's hand comfortingly to calm him down. "We don't care about Dumbledore; never have, never will. I'm sorry that your parents were attacked by the Death Eaters, Granger, but you were not the only one who was targeted. Dylan and I were held hostage by Voldemort for a month before we broke ourselves out. Bellatrix Lestrange tortured us _every day_ , and trust me, it was not an experience I would recommend to anyone. Don't blame us just because you see everything in black and white. Harry and I did not force you to attend the DA meetings; you chose to do that on your own. You had no right to stop others from learning just because you felt it isn't right."

"It's the Dark Arts!" shrieked Hermione.

"No, I never taught you the Dark Arts," said Harry, his voice very soft. Daphne grimaced. Unlike her, Harry never raised his voice when he was angry. The calmer he appeared to the naked eye, the softer his voice, the angrier he was. Harry's eyes were jet black, and that meant he was furious. She didn't blame him. He was very protective of her, and Granger blaming Daphne for her parents' deaths was no doubt annoying the hell out of him. Her left eye was twitching in irritation too. Unknown to Daphne, her deep blue eyes were glowing an eerie white.

"What I taught you was magic that is considered grey. Most of it is included in the current Offensive Magic curriculum. The curses I demonstrated are not taught at school, but I assure you, they are very much a part of the training that Aurors and Hit-Wizards go through before they reach professional level. You can never defend yourself unless you know what you're up against. _We were at war_. Just because you wanted to continue living in a bubble didn't mean that everyone else did. Had you been at home when your parents were attacked, and the Death Eaters were throwing curses everywhere, how would you have defended yourself against them? Could you have identified the Blood-Boiling Curse or would you have mistaken it for a stunner? Would you have been able to reserve the Sectumsempra curse? I taught them for a reason! I wanted you all to _survive!_ "

"Grow up, Granger," said Daphne, her upper lip curling in distaste. "You're a smart girl, but if there is one thing I have observed about you over the years is that you're painfully limited. Narrow. Close minded. If you want to blame someone for the deaths of your parents, blame the Death Eaters. Don't you dare point your finger at us. It was your fault for being such a tattletale. Now if you'll excuse us, we have some business to attend to. Have a nice life, Granger."

Harry's blackish-green eyes loomed over the bushy-haired girl as he followed his fiancée out of the Restricted Section. He was still seething. Her fingers intertwined with his.

"Forget about her, Harry," Daphne said quietly. "She's not worth our time. We have bigger fish to fry."

Harry took a deep breath as he nodded. Hermione was still glaring at them hatefully, her cheeks stained with tears. She clenched her fists angrily.

No matter what they claimed, Potter and Greengrass had blood on their hands – the blood of Hermione's parents. Those two were up to something. And Hermione vowed to herself that she would do her utmost best to make her parents proud. She would rise above Potter and Greengrass and drag the wizarding world out of the middle ages to the enlightened and developed age of the Muggles.

With her intelligence and dedication, nothing was impossible.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Two figures quietly made their way out of Hogwarts using the secret passageway that the Shrieking Shack offered. Covering their heads with their hoods, masking their faces with a glamour charm, the figures stealthily walked towards the end of the village. It was just past eight, and the village was bustling with activity. Even the Hog's Head was surprisingly full.

"Can you imagine how this village would turn out if it's converted into a magnificent city?" whispered Harry.

Daphne hummed in agreement. They reached the Apparition point and with barely a whisper, they disappeared. When they reappeared, they were in a dark alley.

"Come on," muttered Harry. "Which is the first orphanage we're going to visit here?"

"Looks like Dylan was quite sentimental when he made the list," replied Daphne, gazing at a sheet of parchment. "Our first stop is David's orphanage for children."

Harry's eyes darkened at the very mention of the place that his beloved little brother had grown up in. Night had crept up on the city of Edinburgh. The couple silently walked towards the old building, the exterior doing nothing to hinder their anger and despair.

"I can't believe that he grew up in such filthy conditions," whispered Daphne furiously. Harry silently nodded, memories of his cupboard under the stairs at Number Four, Privet Drive, flashing before his eyes.

The two of them were quick to cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves as they entered the building. For nearly fifteen minutes, they silently watched the children interact. Daphne finally snapped her fingers, wandlessly scanning the building for magical activity.

They found five children. Five abused children.

"It looks like they haven't learnt their lesson after what happened to Dylan," spat Daphne angrily.

Harry's upper lip curled in distaste. While he hated Voldemort with a passion, he never lost the sympathy he had felt for the boy Tom Riddle. Harry had seen nearly all of Tom's memories and combined with his own experiences and Dylan's, he had decided to check if there were indeed magical children out there in Muggle orphanages. They wouldn't allow magical children to be abused like this. Memories of the exorcism that he had undergone, that Tom had undergone, that Dylan had undergone flooded into his mind.

All three boys had been scarred permanently due to that horrifying incident, and he was not stupid enough to believe that other magical children raised by intolerant and illogical Muggles did not have to go through the same.

They quietly walked up the stairs and kept a keen eye on where the magical children were being held. The door to their left opened with a bang, and the matron was bodily thrown out of the room.

The Banishing Charm. Accidental magic.

The woman got up, spluttering, her face writ with anger. "How dare you?" she shrieked. "How dare you attack me, you little brats? First, you pull that stunt at school this morning, and now you do _this?_ I'll put an end to your – your _unnaturalness_ – if it's the last thing I do! You're just like that freakish Lestrange boy!"

Harry's eyes were black as the cosmos, and he was completely still. His blood was boiling. No matter what these people claimed to the outside world, the children in orphanages were never treated well. The state of the building was enough to let him know that. Dylan had confided in him that they had always been short of funds. The air was stale, the floor filthy, and the bathrooms were in the worst conditions possible. The beds were also old and not replaced. They stank badly due to repeated bedwetting caused by little children, never thoroughly cleaned or dried by the caregivers in the orphanage.

Neglect was commonplace. Since there were hundreds of children and so few adults to care for them, bullying was rampant. Infants were quiet because there was no adult to give them any sort of attention. Dylan had survived in such a place for eleven years, with people constantly tormenting him and beating him up. Due to lack of personal possessions, anything the children owned was treasured jealously. It was human nature, and Harry remembered his own instances of such when he was at the Dursleys. Unknown to anyone other than Daphne and Dylan, he still had his old baby blanket in his closet at Potter Castle. Tom Riddle had been the same. The caregivers were overworked and irritable and took their frustration out on the children. There were too few adults to care for too many children. That led to more problems.

But the problem was much worse when it came to Muggle-born orphans. Dylan had researched thoroughly over the past several months and had been startled to realise that nearly ninety per cent of children living in orphanages were not true orphans. They were mostly abandoned by single parents ... or in the case of Muggle-borns, due to their freakish powers.

No matter how much Harry despised them, he could understand that the Dursleys had been scared of magic. According to his mother's journal, Petunia had been terrified ever since Snape, in his emotional state when he was a boy, had accidentally caused a branch to fall very close to Petunia's head. Muggles couldn't understand or deal with accidental magic because they didn't know what it was. They thought there was something strange going on with their children, but no doctor could ever find anything wrong, physically or mentally. How could they? Because there was nothing truly abnormal with the children – they were behaving _normally_ by performing accidental magic.

Such unexplainable behaviour usually terrified Muggle parents, and as an extension, Muggle-born children as well. Like most of the country's population, only a select few Muggle-borns too were invited to study at Hogwarts. The rest, like the other purebloods and half-bloods, joined the other smaller schools of Magical Britain. While there were some rare cases like Lily Potter's parents who were ecstatic at the fact that their daughter was magical, that was a minority. Majority of the Muggle parents were very leery or downright hateful of magic. 'Freakish' was a word that was not invented by Vernon Dursley. It was used by several others as well. Being away for ten months a year, without much contact caused a rift between Muggle-borns and their parents.

Serena Miller was not the first, nor was she the last to be ostracised by her family for being magical.

While some parents continued to raise their magical children due to their love for them, others just couldn't handle the unnatural behaviour their offspring exhibited. Such magical children were usually abandoned in orphanages. Harry wondered if there were other magical children abandoned on the streets as well.

The situation was _chronic_ , ignored by the magical government for so long because of their bigoted pureblood ways.

 _Not anymore_ , Harry vowed to himself. Muggle-borns would never be mistreated and the children would never be abused, by both Muggles as well as wizards. These people had suffered enough.

He snapped out of his musings when Daphne Confunded the matron. The powers of the Deathly Hallows were truly spectacular. He, Daphne and Dylan did not truly need a wand to wield magic. Their fingers acted as magical foci and they were more powerful than anyone in recorded or unrecorded history. However, they still did use wands in public. There was no need to attract unwanted attention.

Daphne swiftly altered the woman's memories and sent her back downstairs. The couple slowly removed their glamour and Disillusionment Charms and entered the room. They grimaced when they saw a boy and girl shivering in fright.

Harry stood back in silence as Daphne moved forward to introduce herself, her magic slowly engulfing the orphans in order to calm them down. While he got along swimmingly with Rigel, he still was not comfortable dealing with children, so he let his fiancée handle them. Had the situation not been this grave, he would have smiled at the way Daphne soothingly spoke to the little witch and wizard. She was a lot better at handling children than he was.

The couple walked out of the orphanage nearly an hour later, having spoken to all five magical children – after Daphne healed their injuries, of course, and given them food to eat. The two had assured them all that they would be rescued from the orphanage soon. Dylan had been right. Out of the five children here, three of them had been abandoned by their Muggle parents. The six-year-old girl had still been crying for her mummy and daddy, leading to more cases of accidental magic that no one at the orphanage could explain. The children had been very hesitant and leery of the two strangers, but Harry and Daphne had managed to give them something that would sustain them for a few more weeks – _hope_.

And they were determined not to shatter that hope.

"Why doesn't anyone keep tabs on these orphanages?" asked Daphne through gritted teeth as they walked out of the building. "They're malnourished and traumatized!"

He snorted. "The Muggle government doesn't care because they're lowly orphans and the Ministry of Magic doesn't care because they're lowly Muggle-borns. Bloody selfish bastards. Can you imagine the plight of such children? They're abandoned in the Muggle world, and once they're brought to the magical world, they're shown that they're inferior as compared to arrogant purebloods who blindly follow Voldemort's propaganda. Then there are others like Dolores Umbridge who would literally massacre these Muggle-borns because of her own hatred and self-importance. We _cannot_ let this continue, Daph. I won't let other children grow up the way I did, the way Dylan did."

Daphne took a deep breath to reign in her anger. Magic was swirling around both of them and the concrete road beneath their feet actually cracked due to their rage. "One down," she muttered, "one hundred and twenty-seven to go."

The couple walked back to the dark alley and Disapparated to their next destination.

They didn't return to Hogwarts for the next five days.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry Potter opened his eyes groggily. He blinked, trying to decipher his dark surroundings. With just a thought, he activated the lightning charms to a dim setting and immediately recognized the Slytherin colours and the crest that on the wall behind the expansive bed at the far end of the room.

He was in his bedroom at Black Manor, sitting on one of the reclining leather armchairs by the fireplace. A fond smile formed on his lips when he saw the little boy that was curled up on his lap, the familiar mop of wavy blue hair quite familiar. He chuckled as he placed a gentle kiss on his youngest brother's head, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the embrace of the five-year-old Metamorphmagus.

Gently carrying Rigel to the bedroom that was next to his, Harry placed the child on his bed and tucked him in. Kissing his brother on the forehead once more, he walked out of the room. He checked his wristwatch and realised that it was dinnertime. He must have drifted off to sleep after talking to Rigel for so long.

"Had a nice nap?" asked Amelia, smiling fondly at him. "You both looked too adorable for me to wake you, so I decided to simply take a picture instead."

Harry chuckled as he took a seat at the dining table, piling his plate with food. Sirius had gone to Japan for a diplomatic meeting so it was just him, Amelia and Rigel at the manor. Dylan was still not home because his O.W.L.s were going on at Hogwarts, and Daphne was in New York City, presenting her papers to acquire her Masters' in Charms and Arithmancy.

"Sirius informed me about your plans for the cities," said Amelia, after swallowing her food. She laughed. "Why do you want to name it _Camelot_ , anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "The ancient city has been lost due to war. So much of our culture emerged from the original Camelot millennia ago, so it is fitting that if we were to build another city that looks after the affairs of Magical Britain – _Avalon_ – it would be named after King Arthur's capital."

Amelia hummed. "I'm impressed with your plan, Harry. Convincing witches and wizards to relocate from Diagon Alley and other Muggle populated areas will not be a problem, but I do believe that the goblins will throw a stink."

Harry cringed slightly. He knew that too. While he was on good terms with Ragnok, the bank manager of Gringotts London, he knew that wizard-goblin history was not pretty. Relocating Gringotts would not be easy and convincing them would be harder than trying to tame a Nundu!

"One step at a time, Mum," he replied grimly. "We can deal with goblins later. But I have something else for you that needs immediate attention."

"Oh?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I've found out something you're not going to like. What do you know about Muggle-borns living in Muggle orphanages?"

"Not much," frowned Amelia. "It doesn't fall under the purview of my department. Wizarding Children Services handle such matters, and they're an independent office. Why?"

"Daphne and I spent the last five days touring the various Muggle orphanages all over the British Isles," Harry answered softly. "And what we found wasn't pretty. There are over a thousand abused magical children living there, unnoticed by the Ministry."

Amelia did not miss the raw anger that Harry was displaying. Was such a situation really overlooked?

"Go on," she said slowly. Amelia listened to Harry's report for the next hour. They finished dinner and adjourned to her study, and by the end of his tale, she too was furious.

"Why hasn't this been reported?"

"Do you think people like Cornelius Fudge or his predecessors cared?" he shot back. "Look what happened to Tom Riddle. He begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts during the holidays, but the sanctimonious old goat believed that Riddle had to get over his hatred for Muggles and sent him back to the orphanage! The same orphanage where Riddle had been raised during the Muggle Second World War! When the city was being bombed! Maybe Dumbledore was not aware of the extent of the abuse, but he should have at least done _something_! He was the deputy headmaster; it was his duty to act when his students come to him for help. Unfortunately, he didn't. He never trusted Tom Riddle and didn't want him at Hogwarts during the summer months, which is understandable, but that inaction led to the rise of Lord Voldemort. Tell me, what did Dumbledore do later when he was elected as Chief Warlock? When he _knew_ of the problem and didn't do anything, do you honestly think the bigoted purebloods who dominated the Wizengamot at the time would lift a finger?"

Amelia took deep breaths to calm herself. Her son was right. She grabbed a sheet of parchment and a self-inking quill. "You and Daphne spoke to those children, didn't you?" she asked curiously. "What did you tell them?"

He paused. "We told them that we would get them out of the clutches of those Muggle caregivers in a few weeks. Is it possible to push a bill through in that short time?"

"A few years ago, it would have been impossible, but today, that's not the case. We do pull quite a few strings in the Wizengamot, Harry. Let's get the salient points of this bill out of the way. I'll get the D.M.L.E. lawmakers to draft the bill that can be tabled before the Wizengamot next week."

Harry mentally smiled as the two of them discussed the provisions of the new bill pertaining to magical orphans.

Stage two of his plan was underway.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _According to the video 'Tragedy of Orphanages' hosted by TED Talks, the speaker claimed that 90% of children in orphanages are not true orphans. The video is worth watching and we must consider ourselves blessed not to have grown up in such environments. The rest of the information about abandonment, trauma, etc., was what I gathered from other websites. Interesting fact – the speaker of that video is the Chief Executive of 'Lumos', a charity for orphaned children founded by J.K. Rowling._**

 ** _Thank you for the reviews, everyone!_**


	44. The Union of Two Souls

**_Chapter 44_**

 ** _The Union of Two Souls_**

Amelia had been true to her word. After she and Harry had discussed the salient points of the bill and how it would be implemented, she had passed on her notes to the lawmakers in the D.M.L.E., and within a week, it had been presented before the Wizengamot. Harry had attended the session that one time, as he was now eligible to sit on the body, and gave a passionate speech about how magical children shouldn't have to grow up in such filthy conditions, and how Tom Riddle, an abused orphan, had become Lord Voldemort because wizards like Albus Dumbledore had ignored the obvious signs of abuse.

The bill had been passed by the body, more so because of the sheer terror of the remote possibility of another Dark Lord rather than the collective influence the House of Black and the Peverell Clan held over the masses. The Boy-Who-Lived speaking before them also seemed to have been beneficial.

Initially, there was opposition to the new Magical Orphans Act because until now, it was a standard rule that Muggle-borns would be contacted and informed about the magical world only at the age of eleven. This had been quickly rebutted by Sirius and Cyrus' faction, which was now the most powerful block in the Wizengamot. The centrists had little political capital when Dumbledore and Voldemort held the strings, but since both of them were dead, the dynamics had changed. Families and elected representatives from both the liberal and traditional factions had migrated as the ideals of the centrists did appeal to them both. The red-blooded liberals and traditionalists were still in number, but as long as the Wizengamot came to a majority, it would be enough to pass any bill through.

Harry had long ago promised that any receipts from the book sales of the Founders of Hogwarts would be used for the development of magical orphans. With surprising efficiency, Wizarding Children Services was transformed into the new Department for the Welfare of Magical Children, and a homely building had been swiftly constructed in Hogsmeade that would house all the Muggle-born orphans. The _Magical Daily_ was singing Harry and Daphne's praises for spotting a chronic problem that had existed in their society for a long time, ignored by the government until now. While Harry didn't really need more publicity, he didn't stop it, for he would need the people's support in order to further his goals for the full separation of the magical and Muggle worlds in the future.

Several dozen teams of Ministry wizards were deployed all over the British Isles to rehabilitate the Muggle-born children from the Muggle orphanages to their wizarding counterpart in Hogsmeade. The Department for the Welfare of Magical Children, under the keen eye of Madam Marchbanks, the great-granddaughter of Madam Chief Warlock Griselda Marchbanks, ensured that the children were well taken care of and comfortable. The entire process was complete within two months.

The orphaned children were shocked at the existence of the magical world. While some of them were old enough to have already started magical school, more than three-quarters of the orphans were under the age of eleven. Harry and Daphne had personally gone to the orphanage to see how the children were doing, only to receive several shouts of welcome. They had been surprised that the children remembered them; after all, they had hardly spent more than a couple of hours with each of them during their tour of the Muggle orphanages. Dylan had been the most affected by the incident. Having been raised in similar conditions and knowing how horrifying it was, using the gold that was available to him from the Lestrange vault, he had purchased several toys, clothes and books for the children. He later confessed to his brother that it was only fitting, considering the horrible crimes his family had committed during the two wars with Voldemort.

Sirius and Amelia had raised an interesting point which Harry and Daphne had not considered. Why should these children remain orphans? Adoption was very much possible, thus giving these children the chance to grow up with real parents. Since it was magically possible to fully adopt another person into the family, thus making the adoptee a genuine son or daughter by blood and magic, it was an excellent idea. The reason blood-adoption was considered important was that blood itself was sacred to witches and wizards all over the world. Magic in their bodies was channelled through blood and wizarding culture was based on family blood. It was not about blood-purity, but about _magic_.

There was a reason why druids performed rituals at wizarding weddings. There was a reason why such children were _always_ blood-adopted and not simply given the last names of their adopted parents. It was because of the magical connection that existed between them. A married couple were literally bonded for life. That was why the term divorce didn't exist in the vocabulary of witches and wizards, and they had been scandalised and insulted when Muggle-borns brought the concept into the magical world.

The same could be said for parents and their children. Even though they could be harsh with their offspring, like Walburga Black and Rabastan Lestrange had been to their sons, or neglectful like Barty Crouch Senior and Orion Black had been, outright abuse was not possible. Their magical bond through blood prevented it. Rabastan had died, filled with guilt for what he had done to Dylan. Had he survived, it would have destroyed him mentally for nearly snuffing out his son's life. There were exceptions, like Marvolo Gaunt, but that was chalked off to insanity. Walburga Black too had succumbed to mental disorders during the later years of her life.

Adoption through blood was pretty much expected in the magical world. There were very, very few exceptions, like Harry and Dylan, who were adopted by Sirius and Amelia. That was a special case because the two boys had not taken the names of their adopted parents. It was purely symbolic, while in every other case, adoption was literally equal to giving birth to a child. The adopted child would be fully integrated into the family.

That was the reason why blood was considered highly sacred to all witches and wizards. It was a common misconception that blood-purity had anything to do with blood. The original concept had been perverted by Lord Voldemort to further his agenda. The term had initially been coined to denote those who were wizard-raised and Muggle-raised. The two cultures were fundamentally opposed, and this led to friction between them. The purebloods, having always held power in the magical world, did not take kindly to Muggle-borns criticizing their way of life that had existed for several millennia. This quickly led to anger and hatred, with all Muggle-borns considered to be unworthy of magical blood. The Statute of Secrecy only made things worse. Such bitterness and bigotry among the purebloods soon spread. Voldemort, having seen this, had used it as a means to gain power. And that had led to widespread chaos and destruction.

To counter this, Harry had stressed on the introductory classes on Magical Culture that were now being taught to all Muggle-borns at every school in Magical Britain. At the same time, knowledge about their past that was forgotten was also taught to the purebloods and half-bloods. Sirius, for one, was determined to end the disease once and for all. While it was a proven fact that blood didn't have anything to do with magical power, Voldemort's propaganda had corrupted innumerable minds and it would take much effort to get rid of such bigotry. Harry wanted to exterminate the idea of blood-purity, but for that, purebloods needed to get rid of their prejudice, and Muggle-borns needed to understand why wizarding culture and traditions existed, embracing the magical world of which they were now a part of. Bridging that gap would go a long way in shortening the divide between the two.

Change was slow, but it was noticeable.

Gringotts had been quick to advertise the blood-adoption ritual. Serena Miller had been the first at the scene. Having lost her entire family due to the actions of the Death Eaters and not having married again, she was childless. The world-renounced businesswoman had adopted four children – two boys and two girls, and they had all shyly agreed to go through the blood-adoption ritual. Harry, having maintained a good friendship with his business partner over the years, was pleased to note that the children were slowly adapting to their new lifestyles and the new mother was overcome with joy at finally having children of her own.

After being encouraged by Daphne and Astoria, Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass too decided to adopt an orphaned Muggle-born who had been brought to the orphanage. The five-year-old boy was somewhat happy, even if quite leery of his new family. With the adoption ritual complete, little Jacen Greengrass was slowly integrating into his new home. Jacen seemed to be very quiet, but the Greengrasses were doing their utmost best to help him adjust. The boy seemed to be unfamiliar with being in such opulent environments. While he was still nervous around his new father, he had quickly adjusted to his doting mother. Daphne and Astoria had taken the time to interact and get to know their new brother as well. Out of everyone in the extended family and group of friends, Jacen seemed to get along best with Rigel Black, who was the same age as the newly adopted boy.

Harry was happy that one more child was placed with a good family.

Child abuse would be a thing of the past, especially after stage three of Harry's plan would be complete.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Stay still, you idiot!" snapped Dylan testily. "Why in Merlin's name are you twitching?"

"You're not the one getting married, are you?" shot back Harry.

Dylan laughed. "Nervous, are we?" he teased as he adjusted his brother's hair. "There, done!"

Harry exhaled. He stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his ceremonial robes. He was wearing a pair of lavishly designed charcoal-grey dress robes. His hair was neatly brushed to the side, his bangs elegantly falling just above his right eye. Dylan was wearing similar dress robes, but while Harry's vest and tie were pale gold in colour, his were silver.

"Come on," said Dylan softly. "It's time."

Harry nodded as the two of them slowly made their way out of the room. They were in a summer cottage owned by the Greengrass family, situated in Scotland. The scenery surrounding the place was breathtaking. Fresh grass, the air rent with the gentle sound of flowing waterfalls, surrounded by colourful trees, the air thick with ambient magic made this the perfect place for Harry and Daphne to get married. They had decided to keep the ceremony very simple, inviting only family and close friends. Along with the Blacks and Greengrasses and each of their extended families, the teachers of Hogwarts had been invited as they had been the couple's mentors during their apprenticeship. Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Fred and George Weasley, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Tracy Davis were also present at the wedding.

Traditions for wizarding marriages varied in different parts of the world, but the underlying message of each was the same – the union of two souls through the blessings of Mother Magic. Some would have simple ceremonies like Sirius and Amelia had opted for, while others had elaborate magical rituals that needed to be performed. The members of the Peverell clan had always felt that their traditions shouldn't be ignored, and thus, to honour the long-standing custom, Harry and Daphne's wedding too would be presided over by a druid who would perform rituals for the happiness and fulfilment of the couple.

Harry smiled when Daphne slowly walked up to her husband-to-be. She was wearing a long dress of pale gold, filled with intricate embroidery. Her neck, ears and wrists were sparking with diamond jewellery. Her dark-blonde hair had been pinned up, held by a magnificent goblin-made tiara. She looked like a goddess when she smiled at him, her eyes filled with tears of joy.

The ceremony continued for several hours, and it was finally over by noon, with Harry and Daphne united with the blessings of Magic. After the ceremony, the group relocated to Potter Castle where they were to hold a banquet for the guests they had invited for the evening. While both Harry and Daphne had wanted a simple wedding, they knew that with Harry being a celebrity and Sirius being the British Minister of Magic, certain standards had to be maintained and people who needed to be invited. So, instead of inviting such people to a private wedding ceremony, they were invited to the castle for a ball.

That evening, several people from Britain and abroad had come to attend their wedding reception, intending to congratulate the married couple. Since Harry was the oldest son of the British Minister of Magic, the wedding list had several important and influential witches and wizards from around the world. The ex-Triwizard Champions had also made an appearance. Victor Krum had come down from Bulgaria with his new girlfriend, Cedric Diggory with Cho Chang, and Fleur Delacour with her fiancé Bill Weasley. Along with the newly married couple's friends and family, there were also important businessmen, Wizengamot members and international delegates from various magical governments and the I.C.W. who had been invited for the evening. Even the recently elected Supreme Mugwump had been personally invited by Sirius.

The important people of the magical governments and others with secure fireplace connections were permitted to use the Floo. Minister of Magic Sirius Black and his wife Amelia welcomed the guests warmly while five-year-old Rigel chatted excitedly with whoever spoke to him.

The other guests were to Apparate to the entrance of the grounds. The first thing they saw was the large gates with the crest of the Peverell clan proudly displayed on it. After Harry had revived the clan, the previous crest that had been buried was once more in use. A griffin and a thestral on either side, with a large shield in the middle; a single sword was pointed upward, but the handle of the sword had been designed as if there were actual rubies the size of eggs present, no doubt a replica of the Sword of Gryffindor. An intricate 'P' was carved on the shield, showing everyone the proud ancestry of the Potter family.

Thanks to the shrinking and displacement charms, they didn't have to spend hours walking to the castle from the front gates. After a short walk that lasted a couple of minutes, they found themselves in front of a magnificent castle. It seemed to be built from light grey stone, the exterior quite smooth to touch. Beautifully cut and maintained green ivy grew along the castle walls, giving it a regal look. A gigantic flag with the Peverell crest was proudly fluttering in the wind on top of a high tower.

The castle also seemed to be covered with flowers. So many varieties could be seen spread all over the place. People were also impressed with the fountains that seem to dominate the grounds. There were fountains of every variety! There was a multi-tier fountain right in front of the front door, there was a step-fountain, one resembling a waterfall, another which looked like a river with an actual bridge over it, and another seemed to emit different colours every passing second! It was spectacular!

The castle and grounds were illuminated on the outside with different lightning charms. Red, gold, silver, blue, violet, yellow, green – the colours seem to change at random with different combinations. Delicious snacks were given to the guests along with tea while they socialised. Lord Cyrus and Lady Elizabeth Greengrass were beaming as they welcomed everyone, with young Jacen seemingly attached to his father, still too shy to interact with anyone outside the family.

The inside of the castle was breathtakingly beautiful. The house-elves had taken it upon themselves to make the reception as grand as possible. The formal dining room had been expanded beautifully and six long tables were positioned with three on each side and in between, was a large round table meant for the bride and groom's family. The orchestra was positioned on the other side of the room, where the guests could clearly see them. The floor was charmed to resemble a leaf made of gold, while the crystal chandeliers provided more light, reflecting off the cutlery.

After a splendid feast, they were led to the Grand Ballroom. Golden lights were twinkling from the enormous chandeliers, with silvery stars falling from the roof. Ice sculptures of a tigress and eagle together were placed at every corner. Several glasses of champagne were served to all. Harry and Daphne spent the evening thanking people who had attended, conversing with several important witches and wizards from around the world. Finally, when the orchestra started playing slow music, they were able to share an intimate dance.

"Did you ever imagine that we would be happy to get married when we found out about the contract seven years ago?" asked Daphne.

A hint of a smile formed on Harry's face. "I thought it would be an unmitigated disaster," he admitted. "I didn't know how anyone would willingly put up with someone like me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Someone like you? What does _that_ mean?"

"Someone as emotionally stunted as I am," shrugged Harry nonchalantly. "I'm not blind to my faults."

"No one is perfect, Harry," sighed Daphne. "I know I'm not."

Harry grinned. "I _know_ you're not," he teased. "I can write a list of all your flaws, but I don't think I want you mad at me just yet."

Daphne rolled her eyes and smacked him playfully. She wrapped her arms around his muscular torso and rested her head on his chest. "You may not be perfect," she admitted, "but I'm not looking for perfection. I love you and I'm willing to accept you in spite of your flaws. That stupid contract could have been a disaster, but I'm glad that we managed to work things out."

"Things worked out for the better because we persevered. Our relationship has never been easy, Daphne. We've had our share of fights."

She snorted. That was the understatement of the century. They weren't really at fault because they had been acting their age - in other words, immature teenagers. They hadn't been mature enough to handle each other's frustrations day in and day out when they were at school. The two of them had grown up after Voldemort's death, having understood each other in ways they never had before. They would still have their share of disagreements and arguments, but those wouldn't resemble the immature fights the couple used to have when they were fifteen.

"No relationship in the world is perfect," replied Daphne. "I think what helped us, in the long run, was that we were friends – _best friends_ – before we became a couple. We were already comfortable in each other's presence."

"True. I never expected to fall in love with you, to be honest, and I know that you didn't expect to fall in love with me either. I grew to respect you as a person, and that was enough for me. You accepted that I'm not as emotional as an average human being and that is more than I could ask for. You helped me achieve my goals; you still do! Your strong personality is what attracted me to you, but it was my respect for you that cemented our bond, at least from my perspective. I've always felt that love is secondary."

She smiled softly, seeing his point of view. "But that was when you were a thirteen-year-old boy. Do you _still_ believe that love is secondary?"

Harry frowned. "I know that no one besides you will agree, but to me, respect is the most important aspect of _any_ relationship," he said slowly. "My way of thinking has always been bizarre to most. I've never been able to understand the need for constantly expressing one's emotions."

"Not everyone is gifted with natural Occulmency barriers. Without those, you would have been like everyone else."

"Maybe so. But you have to admit, what's the point of me loving you unless I respect you as a person? Or your choices? Isn't such a relationship unhealthy?"

Daphne nodded in agreement as she closed her eyes in contemplation. They were getting introspective again and such discussions went on for _hours_ on end. With comfortable silence, they swayed to the slow beats of the music, enjoying the other's close presence.

Harry rested his chin on her head. "I'm actually surprised by the way you brought me out of my shell," he said after a pause. "I wouldn't be the person I am today if not for you, Daphne."

"Same here," she murmured. A slow smirk formed on her lips as she asked, "Do you still think our marriage is a disaster waiting to happen?"

"I don't think ... I _know_."

"Harry!" Daphne cried indignantly, but she couldn't help but grin. "Remember, we're married now. That means I can use this as leverage against you in future arguments."

He smiled as he kissed her softly. "Like you've been doing for the past five years?" he teased.

"Exactly!"

"Well, my Lady, I may not have had positive views of either you or our betrothal when I was eleven, but I can honestly say that I was wrong. You're so much better than the girl of my dreams."

"You actually dreamt about girls? And here we all thought you were made of ice!"

"I was a hormonal teenage boy too, you know! I had fantasies and urges like everyone else. Not my fault you took care of it all since before my fifteenth birthday. So in retrospect, that was all your fault!"

" _My_ fault? So I robbed you of your 'wild' teenage years, huh?"

"Exactly!"

Daphne smiled as she cupped her husband's cheek. "Is this another attempt to make me laugh?"

Harry swore under his breath. "I thought it would work this time," he frowned.

Daphne shook her head. "I don't care if you don't have a single funny bone in your body because you wouldn't be the person you are without those flaws. You, my dear husband, are defined by both your good attributes and the bad. I'm your wife, Harry, and that's not just a title. I'll accept you just the way you are, just as you have always accepted me despite some of my more annoying traits. I'm here to hold your hand in victory and pick up the pieces when you're down, never forget that."

The precise words were unspoken, but her message was clear.

 _I'm your partner in destiny. You're not alone._

Harry wrapped his arms tighter around her slim waist, his eyes surprisingly moist. They didn't need more words. Their embrace was enough to convey the immeasurable love they felt for the other. He closed his eyes as a content smile formed on his lips.

 _He was not alone._

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Are you really leaving, Harry?"

The young Lord Potter stopped packing when he heard the small voice. He turned around and saw his littlest brother sitting at the foot of the bed. They were in Harry and Daphne's bedroom at Potter Castle, ready to leave for their world tour.

"Why do you want to go abroad for five years?" asked Rigel earnestly. "You can enrol at a university here, can't you?"

Rigel was very upset because he didn't want his oldest brother to leave. His hair turned a dull shade of grey and his violet eyes began tearing up. His lower lip trembled. Seeing the dejected look on the boy's face, Harry picked him up, held Rigel securely in his arms and walked towards the balcony that overlooked the expansive grounds.

"I'm not going to disappear for five years, Rigel," said Harry soothingly. "Even if I'm on the other side of the world, how long do you think it would take for me to come home and see you? Do you want me to come home every day to reassure you that I'm fine?"

"Not every day," said Rigel quickly. He wrapped his little arms around Harry's neck. "But can you come back once in a while?"

Harry kissed the boy's forehead affectionately. "I promise," he assured. "I'll come back as frequently as possible. Besides, we have mirrors, don't we?"

Rigel's face lit up. "So I can talk to you whenever I want?" he asked excitedly.

"Of course you can!" laughed Harry. The five-year-old boy immediately perked up at that, his hair turning bright blue as usual. Harry smirked when an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"You're having a bonding moment and I wasn't invited?" pouted Dylan. "No fair!"

Rigel giggled hysterically as fingers brushed along his stomach. "Dylan, stop it! It tickles!" he laughed as Dylan levitated the boy away from Harry's arms.

"That's the point, _Rainbow!_ "

"Don't call me that!" whined Rigel, now dangling upside down without any support. Dylan smirked as he tapped the kid on the nose.

"Well, technically not a rainbow because you can change your hair to other colours too, but what else would I call you?" he teased.

Rigel huffed. "You're the biggest meanie ever!" he shouted.

"Aww," sniffed Dylan, making fake tears appear on his face. "Does that mean I'm your least favourite brother?"

"No!" exclaimed Rigel, sounding panicked. "Sorry, Dylan, don't be upset! You're my favourite brother!"

Dylan grinned as he ruffled the boy's hair playfully, his eyes twinkling. "See, Harry? I'm his favourite brother!" he declared smugly.

"I'm his godfather," shot back Harry. "There's no competition."

"I hate it when you do that," grumbled Dylan as Rigel laughed. He let go of the little Metamorphmagus who ran back into the room to play with his toys. Harry instructed a house-elf to keep an eye on Rigel so that he wouldn't hurt himself. The two brothers simply leaned on the railings, enjoying the cool air blowing in their faces.

"What's your plan?" asked Dylan curiously.

Harry paused. "I received a letter from Nicolas Flamel," he said softly. "He's agreed to take me as his apprentice for Alchemy."

"That's great! But he lives in France, doesn't he? How will you study under his tutelage while globetrotting at the same time?"

"The Sorcerer's degree is not like a Master's," explained Harry. "I already know elementary Alchemy and its principles. Flamel will give me pointers here and there and help me with concepts I don't understand, but that's it. I'll have to work on the subject, study, and do research all by myself. If I make a breakthrough in the field, I'll be awarded the title of Grand Sorcerer instead since this is purely about research. I will probably spend four to six months with him in total over the next five years. It won't be a problem."

"And Daphne?"

"Enchanting. She has a real knack for Charms and Arithmancy, and I encouraged her to pursue it. That area of magic is very diverse, and together with Alchemy, it can create wonders."

"In case a war breaks out?" asked Dylan casually.

"In case a war breaks out," agreed Harry.

Dylan took a deep breath. "I need some advice. Do you remember me telling you that I wanted to be an Auror?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly.

"Well, no offence to Mum and Dad," he sighed, running his fingers through his loose brown curls, "but the training Auror cadets are given by the Ministry instructors is just too simple for me. It's more about law-enforcement than duelling. I won't learn much. I won't be challenged. I won't be satisfied with _patrol duty_. I want to learn battle tactics, top-notch offensive magic, and that isn't something that Aurors learn."

"You're right. If I'm not mistaken, isn't there a school somewhere Far East that specialises in Battle-magic? It has quite a reputation!"

"Yes," Dylan said in a low voice. "The school is in a remote place in Siberia. No one knows much about it, and it is positively ancient. They take only ten students from around the world every year. Do you honestly think I can get in with that sort of competition?"

"Of course you can," replied Harry easily. "Because not only are an outstanding duellist, you're also the Master of Death. No one in the world other than me and Daphne could match your power. They'd be fools to reject you."

Dylan hummed. "They take students of all ages and train them for five years. They don't care about your age as long as you meet their requirements. I don't want to waste the next two years, Harry. I need to make a decision _now_."

Harry took a deep breath. "It's an unknown place, filled with unknown people," he muttered. "But I've heard that it's the best school for battle-magic there is."

"I did my research. Gellert Grindelwald was accepted as a student after he was expelled from Durmstrang. Of course, he's not the only one, just the most well-known and controversial figure. I'm not too sure about it as the information I gathered was vague about this particular subject, but there is a link between the graduates of the school and the I.C.W's Department of Mysteries."

Harry remained silent. Both his mother and grandmother had been Unspeakables when they were alive. The journals Lily and Dorea Potter had left behind regarding their work were highly protected, but he had managed to get through the enchantments. He knew a lot about the department, but not from the global level. _This_ information was something he had not anticipated. It shed a whole new light on the workings of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Did you talk to Astoria about this?"

"She wants me to go, or at least try to get in," sighed Dylan.

"Astoria can take care of herself. Don't sacrifice your future for –"

"– I know," he interrupted. "Tori and I are mature enough in our relationship to handle it … at least, I hope so. We've already discussed the possibility of me going there and she's fine with it. I can always make time to see her, and unlike Muggles, international travel for us is very quick. That's not the issue. I wanted to know your opinion on the matter. What do _you_ think I should do?"

"It's your decision, Dylan," said Harry, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. "If you don't get in, at least you tried! But if you do, the knowledge, training and experience would surely help in the long run. Even if I don't know the name of that school, I've heard about it. There has to be _something_ to it that makes it a world-class centre for training in offensive magic."

"The name of the school was derived from some ancient language which no one understands anymore, but apparently, people now call it the _Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic_."

"What else do you know?" asked Harry, his eyes narrowed.

Dylan smirked. "There's a reason Grindelwald managed to gather international support and managed to win battles for several years," he said. "This school has strong connections to the I.C.W. They have the best instructors from all over the world."

"How do you know about all this if they're so secretive?"

"My great-great-grandfather was an alumnus of the academy," Dylan answered. "I found the information in the Lord's study in Lestrange Manor. I found something more as well. You were right; the post of Supreme Mugwump isn't some dummy position. Albus Dumbledore certainly tried to portray it that way, though, but from what I have seen from my father's notes of the war, it was because of Dumbledore's international position that Voldemort had been unable to take the war out of Britain. While he hadn't been able to curb the attacks in the country, Dumbledore cut off Voldemort at the knees when it came to international influence, using his position as Supreme Mugwump to keep other countries at bay. I'll give the old coot credit where it's due."

"I see," muttered Harry, staring into the distance, his eyes turning a darker shade. He had not known about the power the head of the I.C.W held over the international magical community until he had viewed Dumbledore's memories a couple of years ago. Plans were already being made as Harry kept his eye on the proverbial chessboard. "What else?"

"The students of the academy were called upon to serve in the army of the International Confederation of Wizards when Grindelwald was taking over the world," said Dylan. "Apparently, that's the contract they have with the Confederation, but Grindelwald managed to escape from it, and many of his mates from the academy joined him. _That's_ why he seemed to be unstoppable, and that was not just by being the master of the Elder Wand. Along with connections in several countries, he had lieutenants who were amazing duellists. When I said the I.C.W has vested interest in the academy, I meant it. My ancestor's notes on the school are not very detailed, but this is a fact."

"The I.C.W _can_ raise an army, and if or when they do, they have a ready group of _highly trained_ elite warriors, and they're all graduates of the Siberian Academy of Battle-magic, and along with them, the I.C.W has strength through numbers in the form of Aurors and Hit-Wizards from every magical government in the world. Of course, the Confederation can form an army only when there's an international emergency, and the size depends on the nature of the threat, but it has been done before during the Grindelwald war."

"How did Grindelwald and his mates rebel if there's a contract?" asked Harry curiously.

"That contract is to maintain _secrecy_ , not _loyalty_ ," he laughed. "Those who get selected by the academy are powerful and talented witches and wizards. Do you honestly think they would enter into loyalty contracts? No one is _that_ gullible! That's why I was so shocked when you revealed that Draco Malfoy had sworn fealty to you!"

"Draco Malfoy," shrugged Harry. "He has his uses. Lucius Malfoy had ears underground when he was alive and little Draco has been trying to step into his father's shoes. Our information network through our house-elves can't operate _everywhere_. Besides, the Malfoys needed to be taught a lesson; it was _their_ fault primarily for aiding Voldemort as much as they did. Without the help of Abraxas Malfoy and Randolf Lestrange, Voldemort would never have grown as much as he had in his initial years. He trusted them enough to give each of them his Horcruxes. Besides, at the time, I was too pissed off to care. Draco should consider himself lucky that I didn't end his miserable existence. Had something happened to you or Daphne ..."

There was a pause, as the two of them enjoyed the silence, pondering on their discussion.

"When do you get to meet them for an admission test?"

"Next week," answered Dylan.

Harry nodded. "Let's go downstairs. A few rounds of duelling will refine your abilities."

Dylan snorted, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement. "I can so beat you, egghead!" he teased.

"In your dreams, brat. Have you forgotten that I was the one who taught you?"

"Dolt!"

"Dunce!"

"Moron!"

"Meanie!" shouted Rigel excitedly, joining the banter between his two older brothers as they entered the bedroom.

Harry and Dylan groaned. Such words were not appropriate for a five-year-old boy to hear.

"Fuck, Mum's going to kill us!" sweated Dylan.

"What does fuck mean?" asked Rigel curiously.

Harry smacked his brother upside the head. "We were already cursing and you use _that_ in front of him?" he snapped.

"Rigel, whatever you do, don't say that word again," begged Dylan.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" chanted Rigel happily.

"Fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, cringing at what Amelia would say once she found out.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _I know that I've mentioned wizarding travel a lot in my story, so this is my take on it – from what Barty Sr mentioned in Book 4, international travel was through Portkeys. If the Floo system can be connected between two places, why can't it be connected to places like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? It was connected to Diagon Alley, wasn't it? One of the things that irked and confused me in the epilogue was when Harry and Ron revealed that they drove cars. WHY? Why do wizards need to drive cars at all? It's never made sense to me. Apparition, Floo, Portkey, broomsticks, flying carpets, underwater ships, creature-drawn carriages, thestrals, house-elves, hippogriffs . . . it's the magical world! Cars? Sheesh!_**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	45. Meeting the Mentor

**_Chapter 45_**

 ** _Meeting the Mentor_**

The city of Inbu-Hedj was one of the oldest cities in Africa. The entire continent was divided into five magical provinces based on their geographical location – east, west, north, south, and central. Inbu-Hedj, named after the great white fortifications around the city, was also less popularly known as Memphis. It served as the capital of the North African Ministry of Magic. Like most other magical provinces around the world, they too had long since broken off from the Muggle world, thus leading to a purely magical city being built. Set on the banks of the holy Nile river, the architecture of the city was breathtaking. Ancient structures, statues and temples dominated the various high roads. Tall sculptures of great witches and wizards from history were placed at important places. While the classical language of the Egyptians was mostly forgotten in the Muggle world, it was very much in use by the witches and wizards in the region, but thanks to translation charms and potions, languages had never been a problem for anyone in the magical world.

It was the first week of August. Harry and Daphne had left on their world tour a few days after their wedding. Their first stop originally had been France, so that Harry could meet his mentor, Nicolas Flamel. However, they had received a surprising message via owl that instructed the couple to travel to the city of Inbu-Hedj instead, where the Flamels were currently staying. Apparently, they found out, the old alchemist and his wife did not like to stay in one location for too long.

"It makes sense, I guess, since they have a priceless artefact in their possession," muttered Daphne as she set up her workstation in their hotel room.

Harry nodded in agreement. He looked around the suite they had rented for their stay in Egypt. Even though the Potters had properties all over the world, every one of them was leased out. Therefore, they had decided to stay at hotels during their tour. The current hotel, named after the former magical Pharaoh Cleopatra, was considered by many as the best in the region. Their suite certainly reflected it, and so did the cost of staying there.

"Are you sure you'll be fine here?"

Daphne rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. "I'll be fine, Harry," she said, patting his cheek, smiling at him. "I'm not going to be bored here, you know. I have a lot of work to do. If I need to consult the experts in the city, I'll let you know before I leave. Will that appease you?"

Harry nodded. He knew that his wife could take care of herself, but that didn't mean that he wasn't protective of her.

With a wave of her hand, several devices emerged from within her trunk. Daphne watched in silence as a large transparent glass sheet stood in front of her. Smaller rectangular shaped glass devices arranged themselves on her desk. A quill neatly placed itself next to the device.

2003 was considered by many as the year when magical technology became the main focus for everyone in the magical world. It started as an investment opportunity for Harry Potter when he financially supported a smart and talented witch named Serena Miller. The invention of the wide range of mirrors soon started a trend. Enchanters were what young adults aspired to be all over the world and the results of their dreams were promising.

Parchment and ink were quickly disappearing. Magical computers were on the rise, created by a team of witches and wizards from different parts of the world. They resembled transparent sheets of glass, but they could be modified to suit the texture and shape of the user. It could even resemble a sheet of parchment! Regular quills were substituted for a magical device that could be written on the said computers. The technology of the mirrors, crystals and dicta-quills were all integrated into them.

"What is that?" asked Harry curiously. On the large rectangular screen, there was a drawing of a pyramid-shaped device that was glowing red from the inside. There were runes carved on it, but the screen was dominated by the various mathematical formulae that Daphne had written.

"It's my dream project," said Daphne softly. "It's called an _Asthron._ I'll tell you more about it once I get my basic Arithmancy equations out of the way."

Harry's eyes widened marginally. The Sorcerer's degree was all about research and innovation. He couldn't believe that Daphne had already started on her project, while he was yet to even develop an idea.

"A little competitive, are we?" teased Daphne.

A hint of a fond smile formed on his lips. "Don't ask questions that you know I wouldn't answer," he shot back. Cupping her face, he gently kissed her forehead. "I'll be back before dinner."

"Good luck," she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. Daphne watched her husband leave and then she dove into her project. She focussed on the simulation of what the _Asthron_ would accomplish. She snapped her fingers. A jet of red light shot out of the tip of the pyramid-shaped device. She nodded in satisfaction.

Now all she had to do was construct the _Asthron_ and make it a reality. Taking a deep breath, she began writing on the computer screen with her quill. Daphne was soon lost to the world, her mind buzzing with mathematical equations and magical constructs.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The Portkey he had been given activated.

When his feet touched the ground, Harry saw that he was in front of a medium-sized cottage situated on the outskirts of Inbu-Hedj, right on the banks of the Nile river. Moving forward with confident strides, he entered the property. He felt the wards tingling around him and knew that the inhabitants of the cottage were alerted to his presence. He was proven right when just a second later, the protective enchantments gave him access to the front door.

The door opened and Harry slowly walked into the house. A house-elf showed him the way to the living room. Sitting in an armchair by the window was the alchemist that very, very few in the world had the fortune of meeting.

Harry blinked in surprise. Whatever preconceived notions he had about Nicolas Flamel were destroyed when he saw the wizard. The ancient alchemist was about five feet in height. He did not look like he was nearly seven hundred years old. He had grey hair but looked like a ninety-year-old man. In other words, middle-aged. His skin tone was dark and his eyes were shining brightly. Harry couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something _strange_ about the old wizard. The aura that Harry usually sensed from every witch and wizard did not match with Nicolas Flamel. It was as if he were –

"Harry Potter," smiled Nicolas Flamel, interrupting Harry's train of thought. "Welcome to Inbu-Hedj."

"It's an honour to meet someone of your calibre and reputation, Master Flamel," said Harry, bowing as per the traditional wizarding custom. "Thank you for accepting me as your apprentice."

Nicolas chuckled. "Which teacher would like to decline the chance to train intelligent students? I'm no exception, young man. Please, take a seat."

The young wizard sat down opposite to his mentor. A kettle automatically levitated itself in front of him and poured tea for them both. The cup and saucer made its way to Harry who accepted it, nodding to Nicolas in thanks.

"You are a strange boy, Harry Potter," said Nicolas after a pause. "I have kept an eye on your movements for a long time now, ever since you re-entered the magical world. Tell me, in your first year at Hogwarts, what made you think that my former apprentice Albus Dumbledore had not, in fact, been hiding the Philosopher's stone at the school?"

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled faintly. "The stone is your very source of survival, Master Flamel –"

"Nicolas, please."

Harry nodded. "Master Nicolas it is, then. The stone is what keeps you and your wife alive. Why would you give your prized alchemical discovery to Albus Dumbledore, who is hundreds of years younger than you? You're more experienced and knowledgeable. Dumbledore was a child to you. It didn't make sense and I figured you weren't that stupid."

"You're right, I'm not stupid," laughed Nicolas. "I was quite surprised when Perenelle discovered Dumbledore's little game regarding the stone. We found it amusing."

There was silence once more as Harry sipped his tea. There was something nagging him about Flamel, but his gut was telling him to trust the old man.

The magic of the Deathly Hallows, no doubt; but he kept his senses on alert nonetheless.

"I am willing to train you, young Harry," said Nicolas softly. "But I require a favour from you."

Harry frowned. "What is it, sir?"

"I want you to learn more than just the aspects of Alchemy from me. My wife has eyes and ears in a lot of places, and her account of your exploits over the years was quite hard to believe. From what I've been told, you're intelligent, extremely powerful and gifted. However, you are also quite young. You have the fate of the entire magical world on your shoulders."

Harry was completely still. His breathing was calm and even, and there was no outward sign of panic or anger apart from his stiff shoulder muscles. His eyes were blackish-green. The magic in the air thickened.

"Master Nicolas, may I inquire as to what you're talking about?"

The alchemist smiled. "Calm yourself, my friend. I'm not your enemy and I'm not Albus Dumbledore either. I've read Rita Skeeter's new book. I know what dear Albus did to you and your parents. I'm not interested in manipulating you and your family. But you must know that there are forces around you that you are unaware of at the moment. A dark shadow looms over the horizon, Harry Potter. You have allies, long-forgotten allies, but you have no idea of their existence."

 _'He shall emerge at a time when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon.'_

 _'Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that shall decide our fate.'_

Harry simply stared at the alchemist, his mind processing information at a furious rate. He connected the dots.

"You know the contents of the prophecy."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Yes," said Nicolas softly. "How I found out about the prophecy's existence is not important at the moment. But what is important is that you realise how vital you truly are for the future of the magical world, Harry Potter. Divination is an art that has been mostly forgotten by humans. Don't underestimate its power."

"What is it that you want from me, Master Nicolas?" asked Harry curiously, his eyes still hard.

"For an effective leader to emerge, he or she needs a mentor. Take any great historical figure in history, Harry. They have always had someone who helped guide them to fulfil their destiny. Your very own King Arthur, one who is respected and revered by every citizen of Avalon, wouldn't have become such a great king unless he had Myrddin Emrys to guide him. You too need a mentor."

Harry's face remained impassive, but he was surprised by Nicolas' choice of name. Hardly anyone these days used the original titles that were given to different countries in the world, all of them having been replaced by Muggle names. Britain had been named in the place of _Avalon_. _Zhōngguó_ had been renamed China _. Kemet_ had been renamed Egypt. _Bhāratavarṣ_ _a_ was known as India. _Nippon_ had been replaced by Japan.

It was a travesty, in Harry's book. Why should they change their names just because of the Muggles? Apparently, Nicolas Flamel agreed with him. His respect for the alchemist had just increased.

"I will most certainly teach you Alchemy," Nicolas said. "But I also wish to teach you certain other aspects of magic and philosophy that no one else can tell you about. Your destiny is important. Don't let your overconfidence cloud your judgement. There is still much for you to learn. I can help you. I am willing to mentor you. I know that we have just met, Harry Potter, and I know I'm asking for a lot, considering what my wife has told me about your personality. But you need to trust me. Your trust in me will grow gradually, I understand, but trust me that I will not deceive you. The future is uncertain, but your path on it is undeniable."

"I have a few questions," said Harry after a pause.

"I will answer them if I feel you are ready for it. If I don't, just put it away for now. I assure you that I will answer all your questions, but when the time is right. There is still a lot for you to learn before you can comprehend the information I will provide to you. I'm not asking you to trust me blindly. It's hard to do so with a stranger! But you will understand soon ... there is much that you don't know ... but it is up to you. Will you accept my conditions? Will you be my apprentice in the truest sense of the word?"

Harry took a deep breath. Normally, he would never have trusted anyone so blindly. It took him a long time to trust Sirius and Daphne. It hadn't taken much effort with Dylan. However, this time, he would trust a virtual stranger. Nicolas Flamel was speaking candidly, but was Harry willing to put aside his curiosity and suspicion for the sake of the greater good of the magical world?

The soft voice in the back of his mind began whispering again. It strangely brought Harry out of his dilemma as he felt comforted by it. If the magic of the Deathly Hallows, the voice of Magic herself was telling him to trust Nicolas Flamel, he would take the next step. He would be cautious, but he would work with his mentor.

Slowly, Harry nodded.

Nicolas smiled in satisfaction. "Good. Let's get started. First, I'll ask you a series of questions on what you know about Alchemy. We can begin from there."

Harry sat straighter as the examination began. It was going to be gruelling.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Daphne Potter walked over to the dining table. There was a cavity in the wall right next to the table. On a glass screen mounted on the wall were the different food options she could select from. She smirked when she saw something.

"You'll be jealous," she commented. "I've had the chocolate cheesecake here and it's amazing."

A mirror floated behind her, displaying the face of Dylan Lestrange. He looked irritated.

"Why do you have to tempt me?" whined Dylan. "You know it's my favourite dessert!"

Daphne chuckled. She cleared her throat and said clearly, "Two plates of Vegetable Lasagne with four slices of garlic bread."

The cavity in the wall glowed. This was an invention that Daphne was fascinated by. It connected to the hotel's kitchen downstairs. When she chose what she wanted, the order would be placed, with the information registering in the computers in the lobby as well as the kitchen. The food would be prepared quickly and once it was ready –

There was a flash of white light and two plates of food appeared before her. Smirking, Daphne casually levitated both plates and placed them on the table.

"How was your first day of school?" she asked curiously, inquiring about the Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic.

Dylan paused. "They asked me to sign a contract," he said softly. "I cast a Confundus Charm on it and I think it worked because my magic didn't recognise the contract at all."

"Magical contracts are ridiculously complicated, Dylan," said Daphne softly. "Crouch Confunding the Goblet of Fire was a very rare scenario. It is an ancient artefact and is probably easier to rig as compared to modern contracts. In all cases, though, the will of magic has a profound influence. Why do you think Harry and I were forced to marry? That contract was entered by our ancestors, not us. Technically, we could have ignored it."

"Yeah, I've always wondered about that," frowned Dylan. "Why were you bound by the contract anyway?"

"It's because Lord William Potter and Lord Steffen Greengrass signed it with blood, and there was also a life-debt between them," she answered. "My ancestor had warned Lord Potter about the impending attack on his family. That gave Lord Alfred enough time to reconfigure the wards around Potter Castle. The damage was already done, with so many Potters massacred, but the three of them survived because they had been forewarned. That contract stated that in case there is only one member of either family, they would marry into the other so as to protect themselves and their wealth. It was a fail-safe contract. It was never supposed to come into effect."

"But it did! You and Harry were forced into marriage!"

"Their blood flows in our veins, Dylan. Even though the contract never stated it, had we broken the agreement, it could have had consequences for me and Harry to face. Since there were no terms written in case of breach of contract, the will of magic would have decided our fate. We could have escaped unscratched, but due to the blood and life-debt, we could have also been penalised by the magic of the contract. Neither one of us wanted to take that chance. That's why it was considered unbreakable. The risk was just too high. Magical contracts are not trifled with for a reason."

"Back to the secrecy contract they made me sign ..."

Daphne shrugged. "Maybe the Confundus Charm didn't work. We don't really know how the magic of the Hallows affects us, do we? Maybe we are immune to magical contracts. I'll have to test it. Besides, aren't you happy that you aren't restricted by a secrecy contract?"

"I'm ecstatic! Do you know that I'm the youngest one here? The rest of the students are all over the age of twenty-five."

Her eyes narrowed. "If they bully you ..." she growled.

Dylan barked out a laugh. "I can take care of myself, Daph," he assured her. "Don't worry. How's Inbu-Hedj?"

"It's amazing," Daphne replied, taking a seat on the sofa. "I don't understand why we didn't implement the same ideas in Magical Britain until now."

"Tell me about it! When I Portkeyed to Lena City, the capital of Magical Siberia, I was blown away! I'm glad the Ministry is finally doing something."

Daphne was about to reply when the door to their hotel suite opened. She smiled brightly. "Sorry, but I've got to go," she said hurriedly. "Your brother is here and I'm looking forward to some alone time. Take care of yourself and _behave_! I don't want to hear stories of you getting into trouble over there."

"Yes, _Mother_ ," Dylan retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Tell _Father_ I said hi, would you?"

She couldn't help but chuckle when the mirror went blank. A warm feeling engulfed her when Dylan called her that but she chose not to dwell on it. When Harry walked into the suite's living room, Daphne got to her feet and embraced him tightly.

"Rough day?"

"You could say that," Harry murmured, breathing in her scent. He looked at her, eyes dark with love and lust. Before Daphne could even tell him that she had ordered dinner, she found herself back in their bedroom, pushed against the soft mattress, her clothes vanished by her husband with just a thought. She gasped as she felt his erection press against her thigh. The stress of the day melted away as Daphne soon succumbed to his touches.

Harry placed gentle kisses on his wife's neck, taking his time while kneading her breasts. Daphne could only moan in pleasure as the two of them kissed passionately. His lips travelled lower, sucking on her nipples, enjoying the sensation of Daphne running her fingers through his hair. His right hand slowly slid near her inner thigh. A simple touch made her whimper and Harry took the opportunity to insert a finger.

"Don't you dare stop!" hissed Daphne several minutes later.

"What makes you think I would?" he asked innocently, his face buried between her legs. Harry licked his lips, pulled back, and placed his chin on her stomach as he observed her, his smirk displaying the amusement he felt. Daphne was gasping for breath and her face and neck were tinted pink. He had learnt a couple of years ago that Parseltongue had an amazing effect on women in bed. Daphne absolutely _loved_ it. Harry especially enjoyed using his vibrating tongue to wake her up every morning with his head under the blankets, licking away at her vagina. As an added benefit, it always got her in the mood and she never protested when they made love every morning. It had become a habit over the last two years – a habit Harry never wanted to break.

Win-win!

"You have this nasty habit of stopping just before I reach my peak," panted Daphne as his tongue continued to make hissing noises, teasing her clit expertly.

"You mean like this?" grinned Harry, pulling away from between her legs and for a good measure, withdrew his finger as well. Daphne whined at the loss, screaming in frustration.

"Harry, get back there or I swear in the name of Merlin, I'll show you what _real_ torture is!" she shouted furiously. Harry only smirked at her daringly as he went back to pleasuring her. Daphne moaned and her back arched as Harry _finally_ allowed her to achieve orgasm.

"I – hate – you!" said Daphne through gritted teeth, her face flushed.

"Funny, that's not what you were saying just a few seconds ago when you screamed my name," he laughed. Harry looked quite pleased with himself and Daphne decided that revenge was in order. She pushed him on his back roughly and climbed on top of him. Kissing him rather forcefully, after positioning herself, she slowly allowed his thick cock to slide into her. Harry groaned in satisfaction as his erection was engulfed by her wet heat.

Daphne smirked devilishly. "You're not getting away this time, Potter," she said in a low voice. "You've tortured me for three years, and it's time for some revenge."

She was right. She was happily riding him, but when she halted his orgasm for the fifth time, Harry was literally begging for mercy.

"Please!" he gasped. "I'm your husband! You can't torture me like this! Daphne, I thought you loved me!"

"Aww," cooed Daphne, kissing him gently, moving her hips very slowly as she applied just the right amount of pressure to drive him insane. "What is it, love? Can't handle it? And here I thought you had great self-control."

"Please … I'll do anything!"

"Do you promise not to do that to me again?"

"Yes!" shouted Harry desperately. _No ..._

She chuckled. "I expected better from a sex-addict like you, dear husband."

"I'm not addicted to sex!"

"Oh, please! Tell me something that is believable! You insist on making love twice a day!"

"If I'm addicted, that's only because of you. It's your fault that you tempt me with your feminine wiles, wife! Besides, it's _you_ who jumps at me every night, not the other way around!"

Daphne laughed as she captured his lips in a passionate kiss, slowly sliding up and down on his erection. Harry groaned in frustration as he pushed her onto her back, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The sound of heavy balls slapping against her skin echoed throughout the room. Within minutes, they shuddered and moaned, their naked bodies coated with sweat and magic as they achieved orgasm, joined together in the ancient and natural celestial dance of wonder.

Harry collapsed next to his wife, pulling her close, breathing heavily. "You're crazy," he whispered, stroking her spine delicately.

Daphne chuckled. "You're definitely going to punish me in just a few minutes, aren't you?" she asked knowingly.

"Of course," he smirked. "Revenge is certainly sweet. I'm going to torture you slowly, making you beg for mercy. And there's nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind!"

But he caved just a few seconds later when she said that pathetic word.

"Please?"

Harry huffed as Daphne trailed kisses along his chest and abs, slowly bringing him back to excitement. "Women," he muttered. "You can't live with them, and yet you can't live without them!"

"And don't you forget it," whispered Daphne, kissing his cheek lovingly. After another round of lovemaking, they were lying in bed, enjoying their post-coital bliss when she finally asked the question.

"How was your first meeting with Flamel?"

Harry paused. "Interesting," he muttered. "Very interesting."

Daphne raised her eyebrows as her husband told her about his initial conversation with Nicolas Flamel. Two hours later, Daphne was still awake, gently running her fingers through Harry's soft black hair.

 _How were the contents of the prophecy leaked? Who are these so-called allies? What do they want with Harry?_

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 ** _Three months later ..._**

 _ANOTHER OBSCURIAL IDENTIFIED IN NEW YORK_

 _Risk of attacks against the non-magical community increases!_

 _"This is not the work of an Obscurial," assures Minister Akecheta of MACUSA._

 _Statement proved to be false by MACUSA's division_ _of the I.C.W's Department of Mysteries_

 _More such attacks by the parasitic magic discovered in the Muggle communities in Europe and Asia; Indian, Chinese, British and German Ministers of Magic now personally involved._

 _INTERNATIONAL STATUTE OF SECRECY THREATENED!_

 _"We will ensure that the situation is contained," says Amelia Black,_ _Head of the D.M.L.E._

 _DON'T FORGET TO OBLIVIATE!_

 _Everything you need to know about Muggle recording devices and cameras_

 _Conflict between different countries in the Muggle world escalates – will they start a new world war?_

 _IVAN KRUM OF MAGICAL BULGARIA ELECTED_ _AS NEW SUPREME MUGWUMP!_

 _Celebrated leader Babajide Akingbade resigns from the post_ _of the head of the I.C.W. due to poor health._

 _INTERNATIONAL CONFEDERATION OF WIZARDS_ _TO HOLD EMERGENCY SESSION DUE TO_ _RISING INFIGHTING AMONGST MUGGLES_

 _Minister of Magic Sirius Black lays the foundation_ _for the construction of Camelot in South Wales._

 _Tensions between the British Ministry and the Goblin Nation increases_ _as talks between Minister Black and King Ragnuk fails._

 _Will Gringotts soon be the only magical building in London?_

 _GET YOUR DREAM HOME IN HOGSMEADE,_ _GODRIC'S HOLLOW AND CAMELOT TODAY!_

 _PUDDLEMERE UNITED SCORE A MAJOR WIN AGAINST THE MONTROSE MAGPIES!_

 _Ecstatic Puddlemere Captain and Keeper Oliver Wood streaks after winning the League Cup, accepts the trophy while naked amidst thunderous applause by fans!_

 _Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory selected as the new_ _Keeper and Seeker for the English National Quidditch Team!_

 _NEW BOOK LAUNCH –_

 _THE LIFE AND LIES OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

 _Get a copy at your nearest bookstore today!_

Amelia looked at the newspaper gravely. A little more than two years after Voldemort's defeat, they were facing another problem. Unfortunately, the solution was not easy due to the problem itself being quite complicated.

"It's certainly an Obscurial, Amelia," said Croaker softly. "Our resident expert confirmed it. Just to be sure, I sent the information to other Unspeakables who could identify it. We are certainly dealing with a child whose magic has turned into an Obscurus."

They were in Amelia's private conference room in the Ministry of Magic. She was surrounded on either side by people who were reporting to her about the latest attacks.

"Did you get a fix on the child's location?"

"No, ma'am," said Auror Tonks gravely. "By the time we got there, the child had vanished. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes soon arrived to take care of the mess. We tried to track down the magical signature of the Obscurus, but I think it goes without saying that we were unsuccessful."

"We need to stop these attacks," said Amelia, her eyes staring blankly into the distance. "We are facing a threat as dire as Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Such destruction spreading throughout London is not going to be easy to handle. We cannot Obliviate an entire city."

"I have sent a team of Aurors and Hit-Wizards to search the area," said Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt in a deep voice. "The instruments that are used to detect magical activity in Muggle areas have been thrown for a loop because of this interference, ma'am. A team of Enchanters are trying to fix it as we speak, but –"

"I don't care about excuses, Kingsley, I want those systems operational as soon as possible!" snapped Amelia. "I don't care which companies you contact or how much gold they demand, but I will not have the D.M.L.E. this crippled! Arnold, have all the Muggles been Obliviated?"

Arnold Peasegood, the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, nodded briskly. "All the witnesses have had their memories wiped, Director Black. The damage to the buildings and roads has also been repaired."

"What about the contraptions of the Muggles?" asked Croaker sharply. "Security cameras and the like?"

"Done," answered Peasegood. "They should have no record of any magical activity."

"We need to be careful," said Auror Roberts slowly. "Even if a single person has footage of the attack, it could mean –"

"– it could mean exposure," finished Amelia. "It could mean war."

There was deathly silence in the room.

"It's probably a Muggle-born child –"

"It _is_ a Muggle-born child, Auror Tonks," corrected Croaker. "An Obscurus is formed under very specific circumstances. It requires a witch or wizard to fear and hate their magic itself. It is unnatural, that's why their magic reacts that way. It's a parasite but also acts as a defensive mechanism."

"Defence mechanism?" asked Kingsley curiously. "How so?"

"Severe trauma caused to the child will trigger an Obscurus. Before the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy, this phenomenon was quite common. Young witches and wizards were found by Muggles and tortured to death. Some found ways to attack and escape with the help of accidental magic. Unfortunately, such children were badly wounded, mentally and physically, and their magic turned inward and lashed out against their enemies. No Muggle would stand a chance against such an attack. It's the worst sort of magical illness possible."

Croaker didn't mention that there was no cure. Once a child became an Obscurial, their death was certain. But he kept this information to himself.

"After the International Statute of Secrecy was implemented by the I.C.W., the threat of magical children being hunted down by Muggles drastically reduced to the point of nonexistence," continued Amelia. "An Obscurial wasn't seen in the public eye for two hundred years ... until a teenage boy was discovered in New York City by Gellert Grindelwald in 1936. It led to widespread destruction and the Statute was thought to have been irrevocably broken, but thankfully, the secret was somehow preserved. Had the Muggles not been Obliviated that night, global conflict with wizards and Muggles would have been inevitable. Grindelwald would have won."

"Exactly," said Croaker, nodding. "An Obscurus is dangerous for the child as well as their surroundings."

"Find the child, Kinsgley, as quickly as you can, and get him or her to St Mungo's by any means possible. These attacks cannot be allowed to continue. Muggles are panicking and when they panic, they're unpredictable. It becomes that much harder for us to Obliviate them."

"If we can't apprehend the child, do we –" began Auror Roberts.

"Under no circumstances are you to kill the child, is that clear?" snapped Amelia angrily. "The only reason we are here, the only reason I carry this badge, the only reason you wear that uniform, is because we are to protect the magical populace. Our primary responsibility is to our people and I will not let an innocent child who is supposed to be under our care be killed _for what was not his fault!_ You do know how a child turns into an Obscurial, don't you? Or do you want Director Croaker to repeat it for you, Auror Roberts?"

"No, ma'am," Roberts cringed. "I apologise."

"I'll expect a progress report every hour," she said, turning her back towards them, looking out of the artificially created window in the opulent room. "Dismissed."

Croaker and Kingsley waited until their subordinates left the conference room. The two men spoke softly for a couple of minutes until the Head Auror also left. Croaker paused as he observed his friend and colleague.

"Don't worry. We can handle this, Amelia. My department will coordinate with the intelligence wing of the D.M.L.E."

"Thank you," nodded Amelia. Seeing that she was distracted, Croaker too swiftly left the room. Two hours later, she was back in her office, studying the reports that were presented to her when emerald green flames sprang up in the polished Floo at the corner of the room, and the Minister of Magic stepped out. Amelia got up and walked over to him, enveloping him in a hug.

"You have no idea how much I needed that," muttered Sirius, exhaling loudly.

"How was the meeting with the new Prime Minister?"

"Not good," he said grimly. "Unlike his predecessor, this one doesn't like the existence of magic – not one bit. It took all my patience and will-power to stay there in his office as I explained it to him. He was ready to blame the problems of the entire Muggle world on us wizards."

"Well, the damage caused by the Obscurial is partly our fault," said Amelia slowly.

Sirius snorted. "Harry would disagree with you."

Amelia grimaced. The incident with the Obscurial was more personal for her. With both her adopted sons having grown up in abusive environments, Harry and Dylan could have turned into Obscurials when they had been children. The very thought was chilling for her, which was why she had ordered the Aurors to not kill the child.

How could she blame a child for being who he was? How was it the fault of the child for being magical and displaying signs of accidental magic?

It was times like these when Amelia wondered if Harry was right when he said that he wanted to completely separate from the Muggle world. Those Muggle-born orphans had been bad enough, but this was too much to digest.

And to think such attacks were happening all over the world ... five countries at the moment – Magical Britain, Germany, India, China, and the USA.

"Hopefully, I wouldn't have to meet the Prime Minister again," said Sirius, interrupting Amelia's train of thought. "He actually accused us of being rebels to their monarchy and parliament and ordered us to fall in line. The man actually thought I was somehow accountable to him! Can you believe that?"

"What utter rubbish! What did you say to that?"

"I laughed in his face and left."

Amelia couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, and her husband followed not long after. The tension in the room seemed to lessen as they collapsed on the sofa. Unfortunately, just before Amelia could give him a report on the Obscurial, there was buzzing sound. She frowned and pressed a rune on the side table. A mirror materialised in front of them and the face of the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic appeared.

"Minister, Director Black, I apologise for interrupting your meeting, but I have urgent news," she said hurriedly. "I just received word from the office of the Supreme Mugwump. Apparently, the International Confederation is sending a delegation due to the recent attacks on the Muggle world."

Sirius stiffened. This was unexpected and most definitely unwelcome. "When will they arrive?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Tomorrow morning."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Reconfigure the Wizengamot chambers for the meeting. I'll be there shortly."

The mirror went blank. The Minister of Magic looked at his wife. "Amelia, I need more information if I'm going to answer the Confederation."

"Why are they here?" cried Amelia in exasperation. "We're hardly the only ones facing this problem at the moment, Sirius! Don't they realise that coming here will not solve anything?"

He shook his head. "It's not the Confederation that's doing this, it's the Supreme Mugwump. Ivan Krum isn't a fan of mine," admitted Sirius. "I liked Akingbade a lot better. Krum is too hot-headed. I'm pretty sure he's here only to point out the number of Muggle casualties in Britain, right after the destruction heaped by Voldemort and the Death Eaters a couple of years ago."

Amelia frowned. "He's Viktor Krum's uncle, isn't he?"

"Yes. From what our house-elves were able to find out, he doesn't get along with his younger brother, Viktor's father. Ivan Krum's father was killed by Grindelwald during the war. He married a Muggle and they had a daughter. Both of them died, killed on Grindelwald's orders. He's a fanatic who hates dark wizards on principle and is very pro-Muggle. Trust me, he won't understand the plight of a child who turned into an Obscurial."

"Then how did he become the Supreme Mugwump?"

"It's all politics, Amelia. Those who hold the right strings become the leader. What qualifications did Cornelius Fudge possess? Nothing! He was useless! Even a seventh-year Hogwarts student would have done a better job than him. But he was still the Minister of Magic. The same applies here, only on a global scale. Ivan Krum has been in politics since the time he was a teenager, right after his father's death. He fought in the Grindelwald war and is respected to this day, even though many don't like his liberal policy regarding Muggles. He had a powerful mentor who he inherited his political capital from."

"Who?" asked Amelia wearily, having already guessed the answer.

"Albus Dumbledore. From what I managed to find out, Krum was Dumbledore's biggest supporter in the I.C.W until the old man died. Everyone knows how much I despise Dumbledore. It was never a secret. Krum hates me for it. I did, after all, pull Dumbledore's support, thus removing him as Britain's representative on the Confederation. Without the support of the Wizengamot, he wasn't a member, and thus, he was booted out as Supreme Mugwump. Krum didn't like the way his political mentor was disgraced just before his death. In fact, one of the first bills he passed once he was elected was to make it impossible for one country alone to remove the sitting Supreme Mugwump. He blames me for what he believes to be an insult to Dumbledore's memory, and this is just another opportunity to make me look bad in front of the international community."

"It won't work," rebuked Amelia. "Not when four other countries are facing the same problem!"

Sirius doubted it. Unlike its Muggle counterpart, the International Confederation held considerable power over the various magical governments. If there was ever a situation such as this, they bullied the various Ministries of Magic to toe the line and do their bidding. Former British Minister of Magic Damocles Rowle had been forced to resign in the middle of his term due to pressure from the Confederation. No one had managed to save the man's job. Even former MACUSA Minister Seraphina Picquery, a witch few would be happy to cross, had been threatened by the Confederation during her term in office. Ironically, it had been a similar incident that had led to the I.C.W arriving in New York City in 1936. The only reason the I.C.W had not intervened during the Voldemort war was due to Albus Dumbledore being the Supreme Mugwump. Their respect for the old mage, not to mention the power he wielded due to the post, kept them away, but with Dumbledore dead, they were back to their old ways.

Not for the first time, Sirius wished Harry was still in Britain. His oldest son would have scared Ivan Krum away with his sheer magical power alone.

James would have certainly found it funny.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _I apologise for the delay, but I had some trouble writing this chapter. I never realised until I watched Fantastic Beasts how powerful the I.C.W truly was. The role of Supreme Mugwump is given more importance here, I suppose, but the rest of it is true as per the Harry Potter wiki. I've always wondered what might have happened had Harry turned into an Obscurial. According to JKR, he never hated his magic, but what if he did? It would make an interesting plot._**

 ** _Additionally, I know that the title is 'President' for the magical government of the United States, but since every other government in the magical world (in this story, anyway) has a Minister of Magic and is known by no other title, I decided to change it and make it uniform for all of them._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	46. Knowledge is Power

_**Chapter 46**_

 _ **Knowledge is Power**_

Nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger smiled as she entered her office in the Ministry of Magic. Her boyfriend, Percy Weasley, kissed her cheek and left, having been assigned to deal with another international trade disagreement. She sat down at her desk and looked through the file that was placed before her.

It was October 2008, and she was just fresh out of Hogwarts. Due to her high grades, she had been almost immediately hired by the Department of International Magical Cooperation when she had applied for a job. In fact, Hermione had, at the time, many other options to choose from, in regard to her career. In the end, however, she decided that working here would be most beneficial in the future. She wanted to help the magical world grow, and that could not be restricted to Britain alone.

"Miss Granger," said a voice suddenly. "Would you please come to my office? I need to talk to you."

The mirror that was placed on her desk deactivated before she could reply. Hermione was surprised. Why would the head of the department want to talk to her?

Emily Jones, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, smiled as Hermione entered her office.

"Madam Jones," Hermione said tentatively. "What can I do for you?"

"Take a seat, Miss Granger," said Madam Jones. "How are you adjusting to life at the Ministry?"

Hermione paused. "Just fine, ma'am."

The older witch chuckled. "Relax, Miss Granger, this is not an interview," she said in amusement. "I make it a point to interact with all my employees, so there is no need to be nervous. From personal experience, I know that Muggle-borns find it difficult to adjust to the magical world. That's why I'm asking."

"You're a Muggle-born too?" asked Hermione in surprise.

Madam Jones nodded. "You're lucky to have joined the Ministry during such a golden period," she mused. "There is a lot you can learn, and for the first time, being a Muggle-born will not hinder you. But more of that later. I have a new assignment for you. I know that you are new here, but I'm hoping that you will be able to handle diplomatic meetings from now on."

Hermione flushed in pleasure at being given an important assignment. "I promise you that I'll do my best, Madam Jones," she said swiftly.

"Good. We need to go to Bulgaria and convince their Ministry to lower its trade sanctions on us. Things haven't been smooth between Minister Black and Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum, and he's taking his frustrations out on us through the Bulgarian Ministry."

Hermione perked up at that. This was a make-or-break deal. She was being sent to talk to the delegates in the Bulgarian Ministry? Or perhaps the Supreme Mugwump himself? Maybe she could meet Viktor once more. The two had been pen pals for a couple of years before they lost contact.

This was a chance to reconnect with a friend.

"Of course, I'll be coming with you, as will a few of the senior members of the department," elaborated Madam Jones. "You will merely be an observer, but this is a unique opportunity to learn, Miss Granger. Don't waste it."

"I promise, ma'am, I won't," said Hermione fervently. She paused for a moment and seemed uncertain about something. Her boss picked up on it immediately.

"What is it, Miss Granger?"

"Madam Jones, you mentioned that this was a golden period for Muggle-borns," said Hermione slowly. "And yet, I've never witnessed anything that could be characterized as such. Why would you say that?"

Madam Jones raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's not just my opinion. That's what many of us feel. I've been in the magical world for forty years, and have worked at the Ministry since I was twenty-two. Trust me, the previous administrations were much worse when it came to how Muggle-borns were treated. It wasn't anything direct, but subtle. The very fact that those Muggle-born orphans were rescued shows the Ministry's dedication to helping us, Miss Granger."

Hermione paused. She felt conflicted. On one hand, Harry and Daphne Potter, two people she loathed beyond reason, had actually shown their human side for once in their lives. All those poor children who were suffering had been rescued and were placed at the magical orphanage. Many had been adopted by families and were living happily, from what she had read in the _Magical Daily_.

If Potter was a pureblood bigot, why would he help Muggle-borns? It didn't make sense! Was the Ministry truly interested in the betterment of Muggle-borns like her?

She could not be certain.

On the other hand, there was another large scandal that had escaped her notice until very recently.

"Madam Jones, I do have some questions," said Hermione slowly. "I read today's paper and it reported that Minister Black and the Prime Minister of the U.K. were having disagreements. Well, I was wondering ... isn't the Minister of Magic accountable to the Prime Minister?"

The older witch burst out laughing. "What in Merlin's name gave you that idea?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Well, he's the _Prime Minister_ , isn't he? I always thought the Minister of Magic acted as a cabinet minister. Why else would –"

"Hold on, Miss Granger. First of all, your entire approach to understanding the magical government is incorrect. I'm surprised at you. I thought it was fairly obvious why the Minister of Magic isn't accountable to the Muggle government."

"And why is that?"

"It's because this is _Magical_ Britain, Miss Granger," explained Madam Jones patiently. "As a Muggle-born myself, I can understand your confusion, but I learnt this very early on. You're a smart girl; you shouldn't have taken this long to figure it out. Just because both worlds share the same geographical area, doesn't mean they are the same. Magical Britain encompasses all of the British Isles, while the Muggle government is mainly divided into the U.K. and the Republic of Ireland, am I correct?"

Hermione nodded.

"Why should the Minister of Magic, the leader of Magical Britain, answer to the Prime Minister, the leader of another country? Don't club the two, Miss Granger. Okay, I'll give you a better example. The U.K. and France are both European countries. In that sense, is the British Prime Minister accountable to the French President and vice-versa?"

"No!" exclaimed Hermione. "Why should they be? They're –"

"– two different countries, exactly. The same rule applies here. The Minister of Magic informs the Muggle Prime Minister of the existence of the magical world only for the better implementation of the Statute of Secrecy. In fact, it is only the European countries that bother with it. The rest of the Muggle leaders of different countries have no idea of the existence of the magical world because none of their magical counterparts interacts with them – at all."

Hermione remembered Harry Potter telling her the very same thing in her fourth year of Hogwarts. She hadn't put much stock into what he had said, but now ...

"Okay, but what about money?" asked Hermione heatedly. "Who fixes the exchange rate of Galleons and pounds? It is fifty pounds to a Galleon! _Fifty!_ My wand cost me twenty-one Galleons, Madam Jones. That's over one thousand pounds, excluding other items that school children are required to buy. Everything is overpriced by fifty to one for us Muggle-borns! Isn't that wrong? Hogwarts education is so expensive because of it!"

Madam Jones sighed. "Miss Granger," she said in a low voice. "I understand that your life has not been easy in the magical world, but let me assure you that in this particular instance, there is no conspiracy. I never went to Hogwarts. I attended one of the smaller schools of Magical Britain. While the exchange rate wasn't as high before, it still was very expensive for me. Didn't you receive aid from the Hogwarts Scholarship Fund?"

Hermione flushed. "They decided that my parents were quite well to do," she admitted quietly. "I didn't receive the scholarship."

"There are many Muggle-born, half-blood and pureblood families that are poor," shrugged Madam Jones. "They deserve it too. But back to money, tell me, what is this?"

She placed a coin on the desk.

"It's a Galleon," stated Hermione.

"It's also, what Muggles call it, 24-carat gold," Madam Jones said softly. "One Galleon is worth _far more_ than fifty pounds, Miss Granger. Do you know that every time Muggle-borns exchange pounds for Galleons, the Ministry pays an equal amount of Galleons to Gringotts?"

"What?" exclaimed Hermione. "Why?"

"It's because the Muggle currency is worthless. What would the goblins or the Ministry do with it? No one trades with Muggles, Miss Granger, not when the magical world needs the money circulating in its economy. There are huge sanctions on those investing in the Muggle world. Tax rates on such income are astronomical! And there is a reason for that. Why should money that is earned in Galleons be converted into a Muggle currency, thus weakening the international magical economy in the process? It is the goblins who convert Galleons into pounds and vice versa. Such gold that goes into the pockets of goblins does not come back, as they're the ones who handle currency as mandated by an international treaty."

"While a fifty-pound note is valuable in the Muggle world, in the magical word, it is worth less than the paper it is printed on. The goblins wouldn't buy it unless they received compensation in gold. For every pound that was exchanged by you and your parents, the Ministry paid the same amount in Galleons to Gringotts. That is taxpayers' money, Miss Granger. It was collected from purebloods, half-bloods and Muggle-borns alike. This system has existed for a long time. The Ministry essentially paid for everything. Why do you think You-Know-Who's ideology catered to so many followers? Even though bigotry and discrimination have always existed, the Ministry never outright ignored the plight of Muggle-borns. One of the promises You-Know-Who made to his followers was that he would stop such payments and use that gold for the development of all purebloods. Thanks to Harry Potter, that monster is now dead, but it was still a concern for us when he was seizing power. Again, there is no conspiracy, Miss Granger."

Hermione was slack-jawed. Recovering quickly, she thanked her boss and quietly made her way back to her office. She was lost in thought.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

It was two in the morning. Her stomach churned again. Grimacing, Daphne Potter quickly got out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom. A bowl descended towards her as she sat down on the floor, emptying the contents of her stomach once more. She felt her husband brush her long dark-blonde hair away from her face as he helped her relax, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Water," croaked Daphne, wandlessly casting a mouth-freshening charm.

Harry waved his hand and conjured a glass. With a flick of his finger, he filled it with fresh water and gave it to her. She drank it slowly and collapsed against the wall. They stayed silent for a minute until Daphne felt the urge to throw up again. Ten minutes later, they returned to their bedroom.

"Ahem, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

Harry smiled. "Again?" he teased.

Daphne stared at him, face devoid of expression before she hit him with a pillow. Harry laughed. "Sorry, but I couldn't resist. What would you like?"

"Anything," she sighed. "Just no meat, please. I can't stand it right now."

Harry nodded before he walked out of the bedroom. Yawning and scratching his balls sleepily, he activated the glass screen that displayed the available food options. The _Food Dispenser_ glowed a white light as his order appeared in the cavity in the wall. Cleaning his hands magically while levitating the plate containing a simple white sauce pasta, Harry walked back to their room and sat down on the bed next to his wife. Swatting her hand away, he slowly fed it to her while eating some between bites himself. They ate in silence for several minutes. Once they were finished, the used plate automatically vanished. Now that her tummy was full, Harry decided to broach the topic.

"This was the fifth time that you vomited today," he said in concern. "Daph, I really think we should go back home so that your mother can ensure that everything is fine."

Daphne exhaled in frustration. "Harry, this is normal," she said quietly. "Pregnancy has been known to cause nausea and vomiting. Well, I just found out that I puke bloody five times a day instead of just in the morning."

Harry sighed. "It's been nearly three months; these symptoms should have decreased by now. Can't we at least consult your mother?"

"There are plenty of Healers in Inbu-Hedj."

"Daphne ..." Harry growled, his left eye twitching in annoyance due to her stubborn behaviour. Seeing that he was irritated, Daphne nodded reluctantly. She knew that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Why don't you want to go home?" he asked in exasperation.

Daphne's cheeks tinted pink. "I'm in the process of creating another prototype of the _Asthron_ ," she muttered. "I didn't want to waste time since we'll be leaving the city soon. We've already received invitations for soirees from the heads of all the African governments. Such diplomatic functions stretch on for days."

He rolled his eyes. "We can spend the remainder of the week back home and come back to Inbu-Hedj on Monday. Will that appease you, my Lady?"

Daphne cracked a smile and nudged his stomach playfully. "It is said that you should never annoy a pregnant woman," she teased.

Harry smiled as he took her hand, kissing her fingers gently. "I do my best to take care of you, but there are times when I prefer to run away instead."

"I'm not that bad!"

"You destroyed the bedroom! Be glad that the hotel authorities don't know about it!"

"What's new about that? I always destroy things when I'm angry! Besides, I apologised and repaired the damage!"

"I woke up to you licking my balls – _as a tigress!_ Did you expect me to be silent after that ridiculous stunt? I was totally freaked out!"

Daphne blushed. "I just wanted to tease you," she murmured. "How was I to know that you would hit the roof?"

"Daph, have you seen how sharp your teeth are when you are a tigress? And the damn animal has a rough tongue too! I didn't want my genitals bitten off, thank you very much! I've had them for as long as I can remember! My hand and penis discovered pleasure together when I was thirteen! Without my genitals, I can't make love to you and I can't reproduce!"

"It's a good thing that I'm already pregnant, right?"

"And what are you going to do for the rest of your life?! Use a sex toy instead of my penis? Don't you dare say that you can use healing magic to repair the damage!"

"Spoilsport!"

"Teasing wench!"

Daphne giggled. "Maybe I should transform into a tigress when you're fucking me, just to see your reaction," she teased.

Harry's eyes widened marginally. "You wouldn't dare!" he blurted out.

Kissing his cheek, she whispered, "It's your fault for helping me become an Animagus. I told you my form is way better than yours."

"It can't fly, can it?" challenged Harry.

"I don't need wings to fly," shot back Daphne. "I can do so without the help of a broom anyway!"

"Big deal! So can I, and so can several others around the world! What can your form do besides scaring people?"

"I can sever your neck from your body," growled Daphne as she pounced on her husband, pinning him to the mattress. Smiling coyly, she gently caressed his balls, making him shudder in anticipation as she added, "Want to play a teacher and his student?"

Harry grinning, enjoying the fact that Daphne was even more sexually active during pregnancy. "We've already done that," he said. "How about a hot-shot Healer and his patient?"

"And who is going to be the hot-shot Healer? You?"

"Of course!" declared Harry. "I'm the one with the devilishly handsome looks!"

She simply stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Someone's in a good mood," she observed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" chuckled Harry. "I get to make love to my beautiful wife. How about a kinky Auror and a troublesome convict?"

"Hmm ... I like it!" smirked Daphne. "And I'm going to be the tough, sexy Auror. Tell me, dear husband, have you ever been spanked before?"

"You are _not_ going to spank me! Uh-uh! No way!"

"Oh, come on, Harry! Get into the spirit of things. I'll be gentle, I promise!"

"Gentle, my arse!"

"Yes, your arse is the topic of conversation," giggled Daphne. "Now get that cute butt over here!"

"I'll have you know, my arse is not _cute!_ " grumbled Harry.

"Fine, you have a sexy arse! Is that better?"

"Much," laughed Harry. He looked at her shrewdly. "You're not really expecting me to go through with this, are you?"

Daphne shrugged. "I'm not sleepy," she stated.

"Fine," he sighed. "But only if you promise to let me be a Healer the next time. I assure you that I'll get my revenge!"

She rolled her eyes in amusement. "I don't understand why you always say that," she muttered. "Even if I act like a tough Auror, you know as well as I do that you'll ravish me at the first given opportunity."

"Ah, but it's the principle of the thing," smirked Harry. He reluctantly got in position and felt his wife running her fingers delicately across his bare posterior.

 _SMACK!_

"Fuck," cringed Harry.

"Give me names, scum!" shouted Daphne. "Or trust me, I'll make this more painful!"

"Never!" spat Harry. "I'll never reveal those names, bitch! I have the best self-control in the world and I will never succumb to you! No amount of pain or pleasure can break me!"

Daphne smirked evilly. "We'll see about that, prisoner," she purred as she stroked his erect cock teasingly. "Here's a tip. Never piss off an angry Auror!"

Those two kids in her stomach better appreciate everything he was doing for them by keeping their mother happy during pregnancy because Daphne was getting quite dangerous these days. Keeping her sexually satisfied was hard work!

Not that Harry was complaining.

 _SMACK!_

Yes ... Slytherins were most definitely evil. He should have gotten married to a nice, quiet Ravenclaw instead. Oh, life can be cruel.

But as he held his sleeping wife next to him two hours later, moving her hair away from her eyes, Harry reflected that there was no one he could ever imagine sharing his life with apart from Daphne. Gently kissing her forehead, he nuzzled her face. He placed his hand on her stomach protectively and drifted off to sleep.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry had barely stepped out of the Floo at Black Manor when he felt someone bodily slam into him. He chuckled as he embraced his brother, allowing a bright smile to form on his face.

"I missed you," whispered Dylan.

"I missed you too," said Harry softly. "How long are you here for?"

"They gave us a week off," shrugged Dylan. "Apparently, there is a traditional holiday during this time of year that is celebrated by Siberian witches and wizards. I arrived last night."

"Enjoyed your alone time with Astoria? Did you even emerge from your bedroom?"

Dylan blushed. "Yeah, we did," he said dreamily. "As for the second question, what do you think? I really missed her over the past few months, but I'm very glad that I chose to attend the academy. I'm learning a lot!"

Harry nodded in approval. The brothers were talking quietly as they moved towards the drawing room when a blur with blue hair attacked them.

"Rainbow!" exclaimed Dylan, wincing in pain as he grabbed his crotch. "How many times have I told you not to slam into me like that?"

Rigel didn't care. He was beaming with happiness as he leapt into his oldest brother's arms. "Harry, you're home again!" he cried. "I have loads to tell you! Mum and Dad got me a new broom. And it flies higher and faster than my old one!"

Harry smiled slightly. "A big boy broom, huh?" he teased.

"Uh-huh. I'm a big boy now!" he declared. "So can I please ride your Firebolt?"

Dylan burst out laughing. "Sorry, Rainbow, but you're going to have to grow up a little more before we allow you on a racing broom."

The little Metamorphmagus huffed. "I _am_ older!" he shouted. "You just don't know it because you were away!"

"Okay, I'll let you ride a Firebolt," assured Harry. "Why don't you show me your broom first?"

"Yay!" cheered Rigel.

Harry and Dylan blinked in surprise when the toy broomstick zoomed out of the store cupboard upstairs and rapidly approached their position. Dylan grabbed it before it hurt the child.

"Impressive!" he said proudly, ruffling the boy's blue hair. "That was a summoning charm. Good job, kiddo!"

Rigel beamed back at him. Harry discreetly waved his hand at the broom. It changed designs and colours until it looked like a miniature version of his Firebolt. Rigel was happy beyond words.

"I have a Firebolt! I have a Firebolt!" he danced around in happiness. Suddenly, he paused. "Can you make one for Jacen too?" asked Rigel hopefully.

Dylan's eyes softened. Summoning another toy broom, he charmed it just like how Harry had done to Rigel's broom. "Here you go," he said, giving it to the boy.

"Thanks, Harry, Dylan. I'm going to Greengrass Manor so that Jacen and I can play Quidditch!" said Rigel excitedly before running towards the Floo.

"I forgot that he can be quite a handful," muttered Harry, wandlessly sending a Patronus message to his wife to inform her of Rigel's arrival. Dylan nodded, still looking at the boy's retreating form, a smile on his lips. They proceeded to the drawing room.

"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius as he got up to hug his son. "I wasn't expecting you for a few more hours!"

"How have you been?" asked Amelia in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mum, everything is fine," chuckled Harry. "Master Nicolas is quite knowledgeable and is a wonderful mentor. Daphne is off in her own world when she's into research, but she seems happy."

"Not that! I meant Daphne's pregnancy!"

"Oh, that. I'm handling it fine, I guess," he shrugged. "I won't lie and say that I'm not worried, but I still have time to come to terms with it. Daphne ensures that I talk to her regularly about it. It turns out that planning on getting pregnant is vastly different from actually having not one, but two children."

"If you need to talk, I'm always here," said Amelia softly, placing her hand on his cheek. Harry smiled and nodded.

"Mum, Dad, I heard some disturbing news," Dylan frowned. "What is this about the International Confederation coming here to talk to you?"

Amelia sighed. "We have an Obscurial in Magical Britain that's wreaking havoc in the Muggle world," she confessed. "It's getting increasingly hard to maintain the Statute of Secrecy, and you know the I.C.W. will get personally involved when the Statute is threatened."

"They were supposed to be here several days ago, but they postponed their arrival by a week," said Sirius. "I was hoping that would be enough time to get things under control, but we have had no success so far."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He had read the paper last week too, but he hadn't known that the Ministry was nowhere close to finding the child. He was deep in thought when Dylan spoke up.

"Why are they coming here?" spat Dylan. "Are they going to bully you into submission? I won't let them do that to you, Dad!"

"Relax, Dylan," Sirius said softly, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "The Confederation is coming to Britain only to pressure the Ministry to take action. It's their job."

" _Their_ job? It's not their job to threaten various magical governments during a time of crisis! You can manage the situation better without their interference!"

"Don't blame the I.C.W. for this," said Sirius sharply. "The Obscurial is right now causing a lot of problems in London, Dylan. The Ministry is currently on red alert. Everyone is scrambling to ensure that the Statute of Secrecy is not broken. It's the job of the Confederation to keep the existence of the magical world a secret from the Muggles. Forget about me for a minute. What would have happened had Fudge still been the Minister? Don't you think the I.C.W. would need to rein him in and force him to take care of the mess?"

Dylan paused, unsure of what to say.

"I'm not sure how the Muggle world operates, but in the magical world, our international body is quite powerful," explained Sirius. "It was formed nearly fifteen hundred years ago, when the last of the magical royal families came to an end, and has steadily grown over the centuries. When the common people demanded to be heard in the governing body, it was the Confederation who introduced the concept of elected representatives. That's why you see such a mixed form of governance in each and every country in the world. All magical governments are accountable to the I.C.W. That's how they maintain international peace. While the magical world has had several internal power struggles, there has never been an international conflict between any two countries. That can be credited to the I.C.W. When the lives of innumerable witches and wizards were threatened by Muggles, they took a bold decision and decided to implement the Statute of Secrecy. Trust me, it was not popular back then. Many opposed it, especially in Europe, but it still held firm. The influence of the Confederation only grew since the Statute was enacted. When Grindelwald rose to power, they ordered the Aurors of different magical governments to fight him. Essentially, they created an army of their own! Do you think without such a strong international body, the magical world would have survived?"

"I guess not," exhaled Dylan. "But they're still targeting you, aren't they?"

"That's politics, caused by corruption," shrugged Amelia. "It happens everywhere, Dylan, and the I.C.W. is no exception to it. The Supreme Mugwump is the leader of the Confederation, and if Krum wants to send a delegation, that's how it's going to be for now. Trust me, Krum is hardly the worst politician we have faced. We have friends among the members too. We can handle it."

Harry quietly excused himself.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _The Lion's Den._

The tall young man raised an eyebrow at the sign that was now visible to him. Hazel eyes sparkled with concentration as he tried to sense the various enchantments that surrounded the building. He cursed under his breath but was not surprised to find that it contained complex goblin concealment wards as well.

It would take time.

Taking a deep breath, after ensuring that his glamour was in place, the young man used the key that had been given to him by his friend that allowed him access to the highly-restricted pub. The door melted at the touch and he walked through a barrier. A faint smirk formed on his lips when his glamour did not budge.

The inside of the pub was definitely very luxurious. Rich carpets and exquisite furniture decorated the length and breadth of the establishment. It was a stark contrast to some of the lower-end pubs that were rumoured to be run by the same person, like the famed _Blind Pig_ in the cheaper sections of Knockturn Alley. _This_ place, however, was meant for the elite – elite smugglers and gangsters, forming the underworld of the international black market.

The wizard's lips curved into an amused smirk. Even in the dim light of this classy pub, the white-blonde hair of the other man stood out.

"You really should consider changing your hair colour," he said wryly, sitting down at the table. He saw a wand being drawn.

"Who are you?" growled Draco Malfoy. Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes.

"The one who is unfortunate enough to be related to you, however distant it may seem …"

"Harry?" asked Draco hesitantly.

"Who else were you expecting?" snorted Blaise. Grinning at his friend, he continued, "Nice disguise. I remember watching the memories you gave me of the Dark Lord's death. I vividly remember that you didn't look quite as attractive as you do now."

"Sorry, Blaise, but I'm happily married," Harry chuckled. "While I've heard rumours about you being quite popular among some of the boys at Hogwarts, I'm afraid I don't swing that way."

Blaise laughed. "I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate it either, so we're even."

"Can we get on with it?" Draco huffed irritably. "If you want to socialise, there is a perfectly nice restaurant down in Diagon Alley. This is not the place for it."

"Oh, come on, Draco, cheer up," smirked the Italian boy. "There are high-class prostitutes here, you know. You might want to take advantage of the situation and do something about that non-existent sex-life of yours."

"What do you mean non-existent? I'll have you know that I'm actually seeing Mandy Brocklehurst and –"

"I would hate to break the banter between you both, but as my dear cousin said, can we get on with it?" asked Harry. He observed the two young men sitting opposite to him. Blaise looked just the same as ever. Dark, flawless completion with aristocratic features that showed little emotion, with his brown eyes filled with amusement. He was dressed in expensive clothes that ensured that no one doubted his pedigree. The Zabinis were one the most powerful families in Magical Europe and were traditionally allied with the Blacks. While the House of Black prided themselves on their political capital and information network, the Zabinis were known – albeit secretly – for their dealings in the underworld. Even though the current generation preferred to focus on politics, a shadow of their connections built over the years still remained.

The Malfoys, on the other hand, did not have such a legacy. However, for centuries, they had remained slippery friends as they buttered their way up to glory. Lucius Malfoy had been particularly talented at this and had developed quite a few contacts with such people. Harry, having spotted this as an opportunity, had ordered Draco to step into his father's shoes after Lucius' death. Draco had not refused. He couldn't, as he had sworn fealty to Harry.

While the blond had been quite upset by it in the beginning, he had slowly realised that keeping his life and enjoying the benefits of home was a better alternative to the dark atmosphere of Azkaban, which had still not lost its gloomy presence even after all the Dementors on the island had been destroyed with the judicious use of Fiendfyre. The young Malfoy scion had matured over the past couple of years. The distinct air of dottiness was gone, and even Dylan grudgingly admitted that Draco was more likeable now.

"What do you have for me?" asked Harry.

Blaise was the one who spoke first. "The sudden appearance of children turning into Obscurials is not something that was done by those in the lower levels, Harry," he said carefully. "All my contacts told me that should I seek information on what was going on, I should consult their ringleader. I have been working on this for a week, and was finally given access to this person after a lot of effort."

"I had a similar experience too," explained Draco. "It turns out that this ringleader they spoke of is the same person. A goblin, that goes by the name of Gnarlak."

Harry showed no outward sign of surprise, but his eyes seemed to darken in interest. "Go on," he said softly.

"I'm not sure how Gnarlak rose to become _the_ overlord of the underworld," muttered Blaise. "About seventy years ago, from what my mother told me, he was a regular gangster in America, running a shady pub called _The Blind Pig_. There is a branch of the same here in Knockturn Alley. MACUSA, even back then, had declared him a wanted criminal. He rose steadily in the shadows, blackmailing, killing and robbing his enemies until he came out on top about five years ago."

"He's essentially running an empire here," whispered Draco. "Illegal dealings, smuggling of dangerous potions, supplying unicorn blood, assassinations, you name it, he has his hands dirty. Some say he is the reason the current goblin king sits on the throne."

Harry hummed, but the corners of his lips twitched. "And what does he know about the Obscurial? Did he agree to talk to me?"

"Not _you_ ," said Blaise. "That's why I told you to come in disguise. You're Amelia Black's oldest son, Harry. No one in their right mind would deal with you when they're running a black market such as this!"

"Did you bring what he demanded?" asked Draco sharply. "He won't accept gold. You know that he wouldn't ever reveal what he knows without compensation, right?"

"I have it," answered Harry. The two men nodded as they stood up, moving towards a private room at the back of the establishment. Harry poured himself a generous measure of Firewhisky and emptied the glass in one gulp. He keenly observed the various witches and wizards in the pub. It was a busy day. Slightly penetrating their silencing charms was enough for him to know that Gnarlak's top brass gangsters were all here.

A minute later, Gnarlak himself arrived. Dressed in an expensive dragon-hide suit, a dagger magically concealed in a scabbard with a cigar in hand, he cut an impression as if he were the boss of the place – which, Harry noted, he was.

"Gnarlak, this is Evan Wilson, an independent assassin," introduced Blaise. "He is the one who currently seeks information about the attacks by the Obscurial on the Muggle world."

The goblin grinned, showing several pointed teeth. "And why would you want to know of that, Mr Wilson?"

"My client wishes me to get rid of them," shrugged Harry. "Such attacks all over the world are a threat to the Statute of Secrecy, and he does not wish for the magical world to be exposed. Do you have the information?"

"Do you have the venom?" demanded Gnarlak. His eyes widened in surprise when the assassin silently removed a thick phial containing a dark liquid from inside his robes.

"Undiluted basilisk venom, as requested," said Harry, wandlessly levitating the phial to the goblin. He saw dispassionately as the gangster verified if the venom was indeed genuine. Finally, the goblin seemed satisfied.

"Not bad, Mr Wilson, not bad at all," Gnarlak smirked. "I wasn't expecting you to get your hands on something so rare. Basilisk venom is practically impossible to acquire these days. Where did you find it?"

It was not a question of curiosity, it was an order.

"I heard rumours that a trader in _Bābili_ had it," answered Harry, without elaborating much.

 _Bābili_ , or Babylon as it was called by some people, was the largest city in Mesopotamia and served as the capital of the Mesopotamian Ministry of Magic. It was a province that was to the east of Europe and north of Africa, known as the middle-east. It shared its borders with Magical Bulgaria in the west, Magical Northern Africa in the south, Magical Russia to the north and north-east of the Black Sea, and Magical India to the east, ending at the Hindu-Kush mountains. Like most of the magical governments, they too were far too removed from the workings of the Muggle world in the region.

"The information, if you please."

Gnarlak thought for a minute. "I've heard from reliable sources that there is a wizard who is operating in a run-down warehouse in the London Docklands. The building has been uninhabited by Muggles due to age. There were plans of demolishing it, but this man apparently bought it from the previous owner. There is a secret laboratory inside, filled with Muggles and this one wizard."

"And what is the nature of this laboratory?" asked Harry, his eyes turning a shade of blackish-green.

The goblin gave a nonchalant shrug. "Research, I heard."

"I see," said Harry slowly, his face perfectly expressionless. "And who is this wizard?"

"No idea," Gnarlak grinned. "Of course, more information can be acquired – for a certain price."

"We had a deal," Harry said stiffly. Blaise and Draco moved back, not wanting to get tangled in the argument.

"I had a deal with Zabini and Malfoy, not you, Wilson," shot back Gnarlak. "If you want more information, I suggest you bring your so-called client here to speak to me. I'm not some common house-elf that you can summon whenever you wish."

Harry remained quiet. His irritation was building.

Gnarlak grinned. "Why do you want to chase damaged little wizards, anyway, Wilson?" he asked. "Don't take me for a fool. I personally know every top assassin in the magical world and those who employ them. _You have no client_. You are doing this for your own personal amusement or for revenge. Why bother? Such good looks and a fit body should not be wasted. There are several powerful witches, wizards and goblins in the room. Service us for a day or two and I'll help you make a lot of money."

Harry's eye twitched. His friends shifted uncomfortably behind him. From the way the group containing witches, wizards and goblins were leering at him, he knew that they were all privy to their conversation. His eyes turned jet black. If they thought he was going to offer his body to them, they were sadly mistaken, for he was no prostitute.

 _BOOM!_

The house-elf at the entrance of the pub was the first to recover. "Ministry Aurors coming!" he announced.

Gnarlak did not miss the smirk that had formed on the young assassin's face. "YOU LED THEM HERE!" he howled. His dark eyes were filled with rage and malice. "I'll show you why it is not a good idea to mess with me, Wilson, mark my words!"

Harry didn't even bother to get up. He stamped his foot on the ground. The floor beneath his feet cracked due to the heat as a wave of magic flooded the building. The emergency Portkey that was charmed to pass through significant magical barriers literally exploded in the goblin's hands. No one in the establishment could leave, for the Aurors had cast their charms well.

Before the Ministry could note the goblin's presence, Harry bodily summoned Gnarlak and slapped him a custom-made Portkey. The shock on Gnarlak's face was still visible as he disappeared in a flash of blue light.

There were multiple _cracks_ of Apparition as Aurors dressed in magically-enhanced protective leather robes entered the pub, rounding up the various inhabitants in a matter of seconds. A battle ensued, but the gangsters were already surrounded.

"Never did I think I would be this glad that we're friends. Remind me never to piss you off, Harry," muttered Blaise. Draco nodded fervently, shivering slightly.

The Boy-Who-Lived chuckled before picking up the phial containing the basilisk venom. Putting it back inside his robes, he turned to his friends.

"Thanks for your help, you two," he said sincerely. "I know that you spent a lot of money over the past week. Just tell me how much it cost to get in touch with Gnarlak and I will transfer the amount to your accounts, okay?"

Blaise and Draco nodded and quickly left, not wanting to be anywhere close to the crime scene. Harry observed his surroundings, his greenish-black eyes glinting in satisfaction. He walked outside and at an intersection of two roads in Knockturn Alley, with just a whisper, he Disapparated.

He opened his eyes to find himself standing in front of a magnificent looking castle. A happy smile formed on Harry's lips as he saw the familiar sight of Potter Castle before him. He had missed his home terribly over the past three months. Entering through the front doors, he made his way downstairs, towards the dungeons, where the prison cells were located.

Dylan Lestrange was casually leaning against the wall, observing the irate goblin who was cursing up a storm. The silencing charms around the cell ensured that they couldn't hear what Gnarlak was shouting about. He raised his eyebrows when his brother entered the room.

"Did he reveal anything to you?" he asked curiously.

"Not really," replied Harry. "I don't have names, but I do have the location of a place here in Britain. Thanks for keeping him company."

"De nada," shrugged Dylan. "I wasn't about to sit idle when someone bloody enters my home without warning. I'm sort of paranoid after Greyback's attack. Why is he here, anyway? I thought the Aurors would handle it?"

"The Aurors _did_ handle it," said Harry softly. "But I realised that Gnarlak might just be the answer we are looking for."

"Regarding what?"

"Regarding an alliance with the Goblin Nation, should their imperial council choose to elect a new king. I'm sure Ragnok will be most pleased when we deliver Gnarlak to him. From what Ragnok told me, he has enough support to make it happen, and this scum was the only one powerful enough to hinder him. With the present King Ragnuk taken care of and his grand-nephew, Ragnok, as the king –"

"– the goblins will be more cooperative and will be willing to shift Gringotts to Camelot!" finished Dylan excitedly.

Harry nodded. "Among other things," he muttered. "But now, we have more pressing matters to attend to."

"The Obscurial?"

"Yes. Come on, Dylan. You, Daphne and I are taking a little trip to the Muggle world."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _If you believe that a goblin cannot hold such power over the underworld of the magical society, think again. They're the ones who deal with and control the money of wizards. Banks are powerful. That is a fact. There may have been a time when goblins did not have much power over the magical world, but that was before the Statute of Secrecy. The world economy was standardized then, with Gringotts being the sole bankers as per a treaty. That was explained in the above chapter._**

 ** _Also, I know that JKR said that one Galleon is five pounds, but I don't buy that since the aforementioned exchange rate makes so little sense that I want to bang my head against the wall, so I fixed it at fifty pounds instead. Thanks for the reviews!_**


	47. The Obscurial Bunker

_**Chapter 47**_

 _ **The Obscurial Bunker**_

 _ **1st November, 2008**_

Sirius Black exhaled in frustration and annoyance as he looked through another report. His Senior Undersecretary was informing him of the situation, but he was barely able to concentrate.

"– the members of the Confederation have all been assigned rooms at the Pendragon Hotel in Diagon Alley, Minister. The meeting has been scheduled for this evening. We still have time to prepare for –"

"Time?" scoffed Sirius. "We don't have time. At this point, my main aim is to ride this shockwave out. Where's that report from Director Croaker?"

"Right here, sir," said the witch quickly. Having worked with the Minister for a few years now, she knew when the man was agitated. Hastily excusing herself, she left. Sirius closed his eyes and groaned. The Department of Mysteries too had not found any leads. Whoever they were dealing with was good ...

There was a vibrating noise and Sirius was highly tempted to destroy the mirror. Before he could do so, the ethereal female voice of the computer said, " _Alpha priority message to the Minister of Magic from Lord Potter._ "

Taking a deep breath, Sirius casually waved his hand. The large mirror appeared out of thin air in front of him and the face of his oldest son was displayed on the screen.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Did Croaker find anything?" asked Harry.

"Nothing of value," sighed Sirius. "I'll be meeting the heads of the magical governments of Germany, China, India and the United States soon. With them on my side, Krum can't shift the blame on me personally. Really, what is it with that guy? Was Dumbledore so precious to him that he's willing to target me like this?"

"He won't stay popular for long if he continues to spout liberal propaganda during a time of chaos," observed Harry. "I wonder if he knows that."

"Nothing we can do for now. Let's see how the meeting this evening plays out. I've already stationed several teams of Hit-Wizards all over the city. Should the Obscurial choose to attack again, we shall be ready."

Harry's face was devoid of emotion. "Understood," he muttered. "Good luck, Dad. I'll see you later."

His face disappeared, letting the screen revert back to looking like a mirror. The Minister frowned at his reflection; there was something strange about Harry's tone. But he didn't have time to ponder over the issue as he quickly left for a meeting.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"There's nothing here, Daph," he said through the mirror. "I've searched the place thoroughly."

"What about the surrounding area?" inquired Daphne. "Surely –"

"Trust me," interrupted Dylan. "There's nothing here. I've searched the entire neighbourhood."

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Her left eye was twitching. Gnarlak had lied to them. Interrogating him had proved to be useless. Clearly, he had not become the leader of the underworld without sufficient talent backing him. Daphne wondered if she should have been more forceful, but at the time, she had been under the delusion that Gnarlak had told Harry the truth about the location of the laboratory that housed the Obscurial.

"What should I do?"

"Come back home," replied Daphne. "There's nothing more you can do until we find the precise location."

Dylan nodded and the mirror went blank. She turned around, intending to inform her husband, only to spot him standing by the door to her study.

"He lied to us?"

Daphne grimaced. Harry's eyes darkened as he briskly walked down several flights of stairs. Ten minutes later, he was back in the corridor that led to the room that housed the castle's lone prisoner.

As soon as he entered, Harry extended his hand towards the goblin. " _Imperio!_ You _will_ answer my questions."

Gnarlak struggled with the Imperius Curse. The mental pressure made him scream, but he didn't succumb to it. Knowing that if he continued his attack, the goblin would most probably go insane, Harry reluctantly released the curse. It was unfortunate that attacks such as this wouldn't work without destroying Gnarlak's mind. Harry needed the goblin safe and sound if Ragnok was to overthrow the present goblin king. There were too many plots going on simultaneously. He would have to tread carefully.

Gnarlak chuckled softly. "Your attempts to control my mind or read my thoughts will be futile, Potter," he smirked. "Pitiful human mind magic does not work on me."

Harry turned his back on the goblin. His body seemed relaxed, his breathing calm and even. But those who knew Harry would know very well that he always appeared to be composed when angry. The more relaxed he appeared on the outside, the angrier he was. His shoulder muscles were stiff with tension, eyes as black as the cosmos.

"Mind magic?"

 _THUMP!_

The goblin bodily crashed against the wall as the blow of Harry's punch made him whimper. "I don't _need_ mind magic to extract information from you."

Gnarlak gasped due to pain, but the determined glint in his eye did not fade.

 _Is this all this wizard could do?_

"I will never talk, Potter," spat Gnarlak. "You made a grave error in kidnapping me. Your mistake will cause the entire wizarding economy to collapse! By the time King Ragnuk is done, you'll be a _pauper!_ So will the rest of the wizarding –"

The goblin couldn't continue his speech as a tight grip caught his throat. His eyes widened when he saw Harry Potter wandlessly choking him, bodily lifting him off the ground. Gnarlak struggled to breathe as he felt his windpipe slowly being crushed.

"We'll see about that, Gnarlak," snarled Harry. "I don't care about your activities in the underworld. I'm not an Auror, nor am I the leader of a magical government. But you should know that there are defenceless magical children out there who are suffering because of people like you and trust me, if there is anything that can rile me up, it is those who hurt children for their own selfish agenda. Tell me the location of this laboratory and give me names – NOW!"

Gnarlak struggled, but it was no use. The grip on his throat was too tight. Harry finally released him as the goblin fell to the stone floor with a painful thud. Gasping and spluttering, Gnarlak informed Harry of everything he knew.

" _Barebone,_ " muttered Harry. "Jackson Barebone."

Who was this person?

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **British Ministry of Magic Headquarters, London**_

Director Croaker looked at the report that the young man had given him. The datapad was glowing a faint blue light, indicating that it was active. His office was filled with similar gadgets and magical computers, all displaying various runes and arithmetical formulae. There was a virtual map of London with several dots on it, all trying to find the missing Obscruial.

He tapped the screen of the datapad. Immediately, the larger glass screen to his left, showing the map of London, zoomed in. A circular reference point kept focusing on a place in a Muggle park.

Croaker frowned. "How did you compensate for the chaotic magic that is permeating the city? The laws of Charms and Arithmancy are in a state of flux! That's why we were not able to detect anything and our sensors constantly malfunctioned."

Harry smiled faintly. "You'll have to ask my wife for the specifics," he replied. "She created a crystal that is currently placed in several areas throughout the city. It compensates for the chaotic magic in the air. The crystal –"

"– absorbs the chaotic magical waves the presence of the Obscurus is causing, and then corrects the distortion and transmits that information here!" exclaimed Croaker. "Ingenious! Instead of correcting our scanning devices, we could have simply started from scratch and enchanted a new one!"

"You now have the location of the child. I'm not sure who this Jackson Barebone is, but he seems to be behind what is going on."

Croaker remained silent. He knew that name, but he also knew that there was more to the plot than the young Lord Potter realised. He contemplated the pros and cons of the scenario and finally came to the conclusion that it would be safer for someone _outside_ the Department of Mysteries to get involved. Having worked with Harry Potter before, Croaker knew that the Boy-Who-Lived could be trusted.

Leaning forward, he spoke to the young man, whose eyes widened marginally in surprise when Croaker revealed the information to him.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

It was just past four p.m. in the city of London. The sun was beginning to set, its rays dimming every minute. A slight breeze ruffled Harry's moderately long black hair. Not letting his gaze slip, he gently ran his fingers through his hair, tying it in a low ponytail so that it wouldn't hinder his vision during the mission. He could hear the sound of motor vehicles nearby, but the neighbourhood around him was quiet.

They were on the roof of a building, in the middle of the capital city of Muggle and Magical Britain. Even after so many years, Harry still felt uneasy when he was in the Muggle world.

Some memories would remain scars forever, never truly fading away.

Daphne sat cross-legged on the ground, in a meditative posture. Her breathing was calm, but her magic had literally formed an aura around her body. Harry kept an eye out, letting his wife scan the area in peace. Another figure stealthily moved towards him.

"What did you find?" he asked quietly.

Dylan paused. "I located the entrance," he answered softly. "It's a bunker, but I'm not sure how big it is on the inside. It was built many years ago, from what I could gather, probably during the Muggle world war, now being used by these people. The entrance is a little further away, but it is heavily guarded."

"Magic or Muggle technology?"

"Both," grimaced Dylan. "There are wizards as well as Muggles patrolling the area outside the bunker. This is most definitely the place we are looking for."

"He's right," said a female voice. The brothers turned, only to spot Daphne standing up. "I can sense a lot of chaotic magic in the air. The Obscurial is here."

Harry tapped his ear with a finger. A magical hearing device that was placed inside activated, connecting several people at the same time.

"Sir, the cloak has been detected," he said. "Do you see it?"

Croaker's voice echoed in their ears. "Confirmed. Daphne's calculations are perfect. The chaotic magic is a cloak, powered from inside the bunker. Proceed with stage one."

"Director Croaker, I've identified the witch who is patrolling the area," Dylan injected. "It's Professor Albina."

The older man cursed under his breath. Professor Albina was one of Dylan's instructors at the Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic, a school run by the Unspeakables, affiliated to the International Confederation of Wizards.

"What is the status of the Aurors in the locality?" asked Daphne.

"They are stationed at the outskirts of the city. They should be able to provide help should you need it," came the reply. "Dylan, you may proceed."

"Acknowledged," muttered Dylan. Taking a deep breath, he took off into the air, flying without the help of a broom. It was a common misconception that broomless flying was impossible. While it was very difficult to master, a few witches and wizards did achieve the great feat over the course of their lives.

Harry and Daphne watched in silence as Dylan descended in the middle of the park, disillusioned. The couple then flew towards the entrance of the bunker. The magic in the air was stifling.

"We are proceeding with stage two," announced Harry. Daphne nodded silently in confirmation as she waved her wand in delicate movements. Harry, however, began hissing in Parseltongue.

Destroying the wards around the bunker would be simple. With the power they had gained due to being the Masters of Death, the enchantments would have crumbled with one magic-infused punch to the ground. But that was not their objective. They had to be subtle, for they didn't want to trigger another panic attack for the children inside. An Obscurial was dangerous. They had to tread carefully.

Daphne had just finished casting a silencing charm when they saw Dylan engaged in a heated duel with his professor. He had been detected. Thankfully, the Muggle and wizard security guards had already been stunned and bound before Professor Albina found him.

"Let's go," whispered Daphne as they entered the bunker. Harry silently followed her.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Algernon Croaker watched their progress from floor-to-ceiling length mirrors that were in his heavily warded office, deep in the bowels of the Ministry building. The room was empty except for one woman, who was scowling.

"I can sympathise with your feelings, Amelia," Croaker said heavily. "But unfortunately, I'm out of options."

"Out of options?" asked Amelia incredulously. "You have the entire British Department of Mysteries who answers to your command! They could have handled this operation. The D.M.L.E. could have handled it _as they should have._ Forget the Ministry and I.C.W. red-tape, Algernon, I'm their _mother!_ Why was I not consulted before you sent them there?"

"This has nothing to do with red-tape," he said quietly. "I'm out of options for one simple reason. The department has been compromised."

Amelia frowned.

Croaker continued. "Two months ago, my boss, Madam Nisaba, a witch from Mesopotamia, was murdered in her home. She was the Head Unspeakable, the woman who essentially ran the Department of Mysteries globally. Trust me, it is not easy to murder such a high-ranking witch. No one still knows how they infiltrated the wards around her home, not to mention managed to fool the patrols we had around the property. Within a week of her death, I was promoted to Head Unspeakable."

Had it been a more joyful occasion, Amelia would have been ecstatic for Croaker who was one of her closest friends. But right now, she was too worried and pissed to say anything. She remained silent, urging him to continue.

"The Department of Mysteries operates on the fundamental rule that it is our job to maintain the International Statute of Secrecy. Everyone in the world knows it. However, that's not all we do. Research is a key element, and so is protecting the world from harmful magical technology like necromancy and time-travel. I can't reveal more, but trust me, we've had some really tough situations over the years."

Amelia bit back the retort that was at the tip of her tongue. If the Department of Mysteries was really that dedicated to keeping the world safe from the ghastly effects of dangerous necromantic rituals, where were they when Lord Voldemort created one Horcrux after another? But she kept her silence. That was water under the bridge. The soul-piece in Harry's scar had helped him find each of the Horcruxes and the Dark Lord was dead. There was no point in discussing it now.

"Unlike the D.M.L.E., the Department of Mysteries does not really have a varied command structure," continued Croaker, his eyes not leaving the screen that was displaying the movements of Harry, Daphne and Dylan. "There is one person who acts as a global head and another as a deputy head. Then there are those who work in the various magical governments, acting as the regional head. All other Unspeakables are without a rank. Essentially, they are all equals. While that promotes equality among members, it also creates a problem. A power vacuum is created each time the head of the department retires or dies. The entire Department of Mysteries is filled with talented witches and wizards, and that means most of them are ambitious to a harsh degree. Should anyone betray the other, it is very difficult to find out since they cover their tracks very well. Rookwood, for example, was not discovered until Igor Karkaroff revealed it to the Council of Magical Law."

"What does that have to do with the Obscurial?" asked Amelia shrewdly.

Croaker took a deep breath. "I really have no idea," he confessed softly. "Since the day I became the Head Unspeakable, my life has been in constant disarray. There have already been two attempts on my life. Three of my bodyguards were killed in the skirmish."

Amelia gasped in shock. "Algernon, I'm so sorry, I didn't know –"

He waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine. I didn't want to trouble you and Sirius with this. Besides, there's nothing you can do. This is a global threat, Amelia. It's not limited to Magical Britain alone. We have a traitor in the Department of Mysteries, though who, I'm not certain. We have always been very weak at tackling such problems. That's why we try our best to maintain secrecy. The less outside forces know about the department, the safer we are. I'm so paranoid right now that I can't trust my own subordinates. That's why I wanted Harry to deal with this."

"What about Daphne and Dylan?"

"Dylan is one of my students at the academy," shrugged Croaker. "I know what he's capable of, to a certain degree. He still has a lot to learn, but for someone his age, he's very talented. As for Daphne ... we'll see."

"This traitor is the one who is causing so much damage? The one who unleashed Obscurials in four other countries around the world?"

"It's not just one person. There will be others working for them, I'm sure of it. Harry was able to identify the name of a Muggle who is working with these rogue Unspeakables – one Jackson Barebone."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

A dark staircase led them downstairs. Due to the amount of magic in the air, there were no electric lights in the corridors, but rather old-fashioned Muggle gas lamps. The place was eerie and silent. The couple carefully walked down the corridors. They stopped suddenly when they heard a scream, but the sound was muffled just as quickly. Their hearts were beating fast.

Daphne tapped a hand-held magical computer that displayed the readings to her. Harry flicked his wand, scanning the area. Both of them registered the presence of magical activity in opposite directors of the bunker.

"Let's split up," muttered Daphne. Harry hesitated. She picked up on it at once. Giving his hand a firm squeeze, she said, "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

He nodded. Taking a deep breath, he watched her disappear into the shadows.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"They're splitting up?" asked Amelia, aghast. "She's pregnant with twins and he's letting her go alone in a hostile environment? Algernon, I'm this close to killing you with my bare hands!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Croaker couldn't help but laugh. "Do I sense the traditional clashing of personalities between the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law?"

Amelia huffed. "Nothing of that sort," she replied hurriedly. "It's just –"

"– you and Daphne don't see eye to eye," he chuckled. "Nothing unexpected; happens in most families, including my own. Just remember that you have two more to deal with. And one of them is the younger sister of your current daughter-in-law."

"Astoria is a lot easier to get along with and doesn't have a temper," she muttered under her breath.

Croaker smiled faintly, but his eyes narrowed when the screen blinked and distorted images were displayed. The crystal that was lodged in Dylan's clothing which was transmitting everything that was going on had been destroyed. They couldn't monitor the boy's movements anymore, and that meant they couldn't predict when he would need help. Unfortunately, there were several dots appearing on the glass screen, surrounding Dylan's position. Croaker tapped the communication device.

"Dylan, there are more Muggles approaching your position," he said quickly. "I'm sending reinforcements."

"No!" came the frantic reply. The young man was panting hard, making it difficult to understand his words. "A larger attack party will only make things worse and we'll be detected. Give me a few minutes, I can handle it!"

Amelia clenched her fists angrily. Without being able to sense what was going on, they were blind to Dylan's progress. They couldn't take the chance anymore. No matter how talented Dylan was, he was still a student. He wouldn't be able to manage a dozen armed Muggles as well as Professor Albina at the same time.

Croaker silently nodded to her, agreeing with her assessment. This operation needed to be swift and efficient. They didn't have time for a prolonged fight. The I.C.W. meeting had already begun in the Wizengamot chambers. They needed to move quickly in order to help Sirius, who would no doubt be targeted by Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum for failing to stop the attacks by the Obscurial on the Muggle world.

"Aurors, begin attack," ordered Amelia.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Harry, meanwhile, was carefully walking down the corridor. The air shimmered, letting him sense an enchantment in place. Silently destroying it, he unlocked the door. The room was filled with papers and notebooks. Conjuring a bag, casting an expansion charm on the inside, he waved his hand as the various notebooks flew into its depths. He was not surprised to note that there were no Muggle computers here. Such devices would have imploded within moments due to magic, _chaotic_ magic, that rent the air.

However, just when he stepped outside, intending to move to the next room, the door to his left opened, revealing a middle-aged Muggle female dressed in white.

A doctor.

A red jet of light hit her squarely in the face. With another wave of his hand, the woman was transfigured into a quill. She joined the contents of Harry's bag.

He stepped into the next room.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Daphne's breathing was ragged. She was simmering with rage, and she knew that was dangerous. Unlike Harry, she was not someone who could control her emotions. When she lost control, things usually went downhill.

It was her anger and lack of self-control that made her threaten Lord Voldemort to his face two and a half years ago. That stupidity had resulted in her and Dylan being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange for a month. The only reason they had managed to escape was due to the Animagus transformation. That had rejuvenated them slightly, enough to help them fight their way out. But this time, Daphne was worried that her rage would destroy the place, for she detested the environment she was in.

 _"_ _Aurors, begin attack!"_

Daphne froze as she heard her mother-in-law's voice in the communication device lodged in her ear. Suddenly, old-fashioned alarm bells echoed throughout the bunker. An intruder alert had been sounded.

Dylan's attack outside had been detected. Daphne cursed under her breath. Croaker and Amelia should not have sent reinforcements. That had proved to be a mistake.

And people wondered why she found it difficult to get along with her mother-in-law. At least her sister fared a lot better in that regard.

"Freeze, woman!"

Two Muggles with assault rifles were running towards her position. Daphne slashed her wand and there was a _bang._ Both men were thrown against the wall and soon collapsed unconscious, blood slowly dripping from behind their heads. Moving forward, she finally found the door she was looking for. Two more guards were neutralised. Unlocking the door, Daphne felt her face burn due to rage. Her eyes were glowing eerily.

The room was lit, as expected, by gas lamps. Various silver instruments, beds and chemicals dominated the floor. In four large cages were children, looking very sick and frightened. A fifth child, an eight-year-old girl, was strapped to a bed, screaming in pain as a man injected her with a needle.

"Get away from her!" snarled Daphne.

The Muggle doctor yelped in surprise and jammed a button. Since the bunker was already on red alert, the reaction was instantaneous. The door burst open, revealing a dozen security guards – wizards and Muggles.

Daphne waved her wand over her head in a circular motion. A shield materialized, protecting the children from harm, just as bullets rained down on her.

It all happened too fast for people to process.

Spells clashed against the other, but the security wizards were no match for Daphne's skill and raw power. With surprising swiftness, she danced around the incoming curses as she fired several hexes and curses at them, destroying their shields, decapitating her attackers. She had fought against some of the best Death Eaters in Voldemort's army. She had been trained by her husband since the age of eleven and had developed her own style of duelling since. These wizards were no match for her. One by one, their bodies fell to the floor in pieces.

"Stop, you evil freak!" said a frightened voice. "Or I'll shoot this girl in the head!"

Daphne turned sideways, only to spot the terrified looking Muggle grab the little girl, pointing a gun at her head, his fingers dangerously close to firing it.

Her eyes widened when she saw the girl's body release bursts of chaotic magic. This girl was the Obscurial!

And she was transforming, the parasitic magic of the Obscurus taking over.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _"_ _Aurors, begin attack!"_

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration when he heard the alarm bells. While he could understand Croaker's and his adoptive mother's concerns, sending the Aurors to assist Dylan was unnecessary. His brother could have easily handled it.

Unfortunately, many only saw Dylan as a sixteen-year-old boy, not as one of the three who was gifted the powers of the Deathly Hallows, and certainly not as the boy who was personally trained by him, Harry, since the age of eleven.

 _A stupid, vicious cycle_. That's what it was, with the young scoffing at the experience of the elders which they considered redundant, and the elders scoffing at the talent of the young, claiming they were immature. It led to chaos.

"There is no point crying over spilt potion," muttered Harry under his breath. Before anyone to detect his presence, he hurried towards the last door at the end of the corridor, which, according to his scans, was where the magical activity was detected. Unlocking the door with just a flick of his wand, he entered the room.

He was aghast. This room definitely belonged to a wizard. That was not what horrified him. There were cages everywhere, magically enhanced. Inside those cages were magical animals. Some were dead, others mostly alive. Different instruments, scanning or otherwise, were all over the room.

"Lady Athena, be merciful," whispered Harry. How could they cage and experiment on such noble creatures? Phoenixes were considered sacred universally. The Unicorn was sacred in Switzerland and Welsh Green dragon in Britain. The Thunderbird was sacred in North America, followed by the Nundu in Egypt, the Manticore in Greece, the Chinese Fireball in China, the Occamy and Runspoor in India, the Re'em in Tibet ...

And yet ... Harry could recognise the Re'em, a large magical ox, its golden form trembling. Re'em blood bestowed properties to make one immensely strong for a limited time. He could also spot a Unicorn, also caged up and injured. The Occamy was sedated, no doubt for its eggs that were made from the softest, purest silver. There were several other magical creatures present, but thankfully, no Nundu or Manticore or Chimaera.

There was an angry, screeching sound originating from somewhere. Frowning, Harry moved to investigate. There was one more door at the end of the room. Scanning it, he found several enchantments placed on it that prevented anyone who was not keyed in from entering. Harry's fingers lit up as he placed his hands on the barrier. Literally clawing his way in, destroying the ward, Harry opened the door and stepped into the room.

Sheets of parchment were everywhere, but the amount of chaotic magic in the air was more than expected. There were various forms of magic. Chaotic magic was considered a state where the elemental laws that governed Charms and Arithmancy were said to be in a state of flux, known to have been produced only by an Obscurus. It was highly difficult to use any enchanted device in such an area. It was similar to using Muggle electricity or gadgets in Diagon Alley. They wouldn't work, and would probably implode due to the stress.

The D.M.L.E. and the Department of Mysteries, not only in Magical Britain but in other countries as well, had been unable to combat this problem until Daphne had brilliantly figured out a way to do it. Instead of trying to repair malfunctioning instruments, she created a new one that corrected the chaotic magic and transmitted the information to her computer. As Croaker had admitted, it was quite a feat of enchanting, but Daphne was hardly under-qualified to invent such a device. She was a Master and was currently pursuing a Sorcerer's degree in the field.

This room was clearly the command centre, for Harry could sense the wards being powered from here. However, it also seemed to serve as the rogue Unspeakable's private study. The place was littered with tomes of books and various sheets of parchment. The expanded bag automatically summoned it all into its depths.

With a flick of his wand, Harry cast a spell that bathed the room in light. However, he nearly stumbled in surprise when he saw a large avian creature in the room, flapping its wings threateningly. The bird was probably ten feet in height. Its fur was jet black, with orange flames at the tips. It had the body structure similar to that of a Thunderbird, but everything else was similar to what Harry remembered from seeing Fawkes.

Phoenixes were creatures that were considered rare, but many had spotted them in mountainous regions. It was a miracle, however, if one managed to befriend them as Albus Dumbledore had done. Dumbledore had found Fawkes' egg during one of his travels, being smuggled through the Swiss border. He had rescued the unborn phoenix and had nurtured it until its birth. That bond was very special for the late headmaster, which was why Fawkes too had been very fond of Dumbledore. He had studied and observed the behaviour of phoenixes and had later written a book on the subject.

According to Dumbledore, Fawkes was not the only type of phoenix seen in the world, though the red and gold coloured birds were the most common. They represented the element of fire. Thunderbirds, in fact, were considered the form of phoenix that represented the air element, with its ability with rain, thunder and lightning. While purists would never consider them phoenixes due to them having finite years of existence, Dumbledore stated that the connection between the creatures was undeniable. Since it was a bird, there was no creature that described the land element, but there were white phoenixes that thrived in water and on ice. They looked similar to swans, and were found in the Alps and Himalayan ranges, and also in the continent of Antarctica.

The last basic element of magic, according to ancient witches and wizards, was space – the abyss that had mystified and captivated magical humans for tens of thousands of years. A creature that represented this holy element was considered to be the most sacred of all. Dumbledore had only once, with the help of Fawkes, had caught a glimpse of a phoenix that represented this element, but there had been references to such a creature in various manuscripts of ancient witches and wizards in difficult cultures around the world. He had called this bird the _Royal Phoenix._ For without space, without the universe, how could the rest of the basic magical elements come into being? The vacuum of space was the mother of all elements, the womb that nurtured everything in the universe.

The royal phoenix's dark feathers trembled. Harry had no idea how these wizards and Muggles had caught the majestic creature, but from what he could sense, he knew why the phoenix was contained. A highly impressive, yet ghastly enchantment was powered to keep the creature from trying to escape. It was the source of the chaotic magic.

Harry gasped. There was a small boy, heavily contained, behind the royal phoenix. He had partially transformed into an Obscurial. The rogue Unspeakables were powering the bunker's protections by tapping into the chaotic magic the boy released. That was how they had evaded detection for so long. There was a cloak, a shroud of chaotic magic around the area that ensured that the Department of Mysteries would not find them – until Daphne found a way around it.

It was horrifying, and Harry felt his anger rise to dangerous levels. His body was sizzling, an aura forming around him, his eyes impossibly jet black.

"I'm here to help you," said Harry softly to the phoenix, raising his arms in surrender. The creature, however, didn't trust him. It screeched threateningly as he neared it. Its body trembled; the phoenix was obviously very weak, but it still tried to protect the boy.

"Please," Harry begged. Even the simplest movement got the bird very agitated, and a partially transformed Obsicurial needed to be handled very carefully. Taking very slow steps, Harry approached the barrier. He didn't draw his wand, for that would most definitely irritate the phoenix. Placing his hand on the magical barrier, he gritted his teeth and unleashed powerful magical lightning from his fingertips.

The reflection of the lightning could be seen in the dark eyes of the royal phoenix. Harry couldn't describe it, but he felt the creature's magical presence scan his own. When the bird didn't react unfavourably, with one punch, Harry shattered the enchantment that held the phoenix prisoner. When he tried to move towards the boy, the creature screeched once more, its wings still radiating power and orange flames. He simply stared into the eyes of the creature. From his experience with griffins and hippogriffs, he knew that eye contact was essential in order to gain their trust.

A minute later, the royal phoenix slowly moved out of the way. Harry didn't waste any time and kneeled down to help the boy. While he was not a healer, he could help the child stabilize his magic. Once they reached St Mungo's, they could help him with the Obscurus.

Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to go through with his plan. The door to the room burst open, revealing two wizards, followed by a dozen Muggles, all armed with heavy-duty assault rifles. One of the wizards was tall but not muscled. Dark complexion set off his light coloured robes. He had dark brown eyes and curly black hair, with a traditional white paint smeared on his face. Harry recognised him as a person from Australia, for that was the traditional look of the native wizards from the region. The second wizard was someone whom he recognized instantly.

It was Broderick Bode.

"Potter!" breathed Bode, halting in shock. His eyes narrowed in anger. It didn't take a genius for him to realise that Algernon Croaker had once more meddled in his plans, sending someone outside the department to deal with the threat. He had to hand it to the man; his boss was smarter than he gave him credit for.

Bode didn't speak. Instead, he simply nodded swiftly to the Muggle guards. Ten assault rifles were pointed at Harry in different directions, the room echoing with the sound of bullets being continuously fired.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"Let her go," Daphne said through gritted teeth. Her eyes narrowed as her Legilimency probe easily slipped past his non-existent shields. " _You're_ Jackson Barebone."

"Stay back!" shouted Barebone as beads of sweat trickled down his face. "If you attempt to use your freakish powers, I'll kill her!"

Daphne paused. She was not worried about the Muggle. A simple Compulsion Charm would take care of him. The little girl, however, was a different matter altogether. What was worrying was the way Barebone was using the chaotic magic the girl released to protect himself. They had been experimenting with the power of an Obscurus, powering shields and weapons with it.

 _What are they up to?_

She tried a different tactic.

"It's ironic that you call me a freak when you chose to work with wizards for this little project," spat Daphne. "Stand down, Barebone. If you surrender, you'll be given a fair trial. Should you resist, you'll end up like your friends over there, with your body cut into several dozen pieces. Don't tempt me."

Barebone was not done. He whispered into the girl's ear, "If you want to live, you little freak, get us out of here!" The girl whimpered, her body being consumed with the chaotic magic of the Obscurus. Daphne inhaled sharply.

"You fool!" she snarled. "Get away from her!"

With a wave of her hand, Daphne summoned Barebone away from the girl, but not before the child transformed completely. The black and red magic shot upwards, destroying the roof as it escaped into Muggle London.

Daphne was beyond pissed, especially when more wizards and Muggles appeared from above the recently blown up hole in the roof of the bunker, trying to catch her.

She raised her hand. They all gasped for air, rifles and wands clattering to the ground, all holding their throats for some kind of relief. The sound of gasping and choking could be heard in the silent park as Daphne continued her attack, her eyes glinting with uncontrollable rage.

She dragged Barebone away from the scene, just as more than a dozen wizards and Muggles slumped to the ground, dead. Not far away, the Obcurial was destroying everything in its path.


	48. Creation and Destruction

_**Chapter 48**_

 _ **Creation and Destruction**_

Bode watched with satisfaction as the sound of bullets being fired cut out all other noise. He couldn't see much due to the men standing right in front of him, but a minute later, the air cleared, giving him a view of the mess they had created.

While wizards could no doubt defend themselves against guns, how long could they power a shield to protect themselves against continuous assault from all directions? He was confident that Potter would be dead.

Unfortunately, when the smoke cleared, he and everyone else was stunned to see the Boy-Who-Lived simply standing there, wiping the non-existent dirt from under his fingernails against his robes.

"You know," said Harry conversationally. "I've always had the greatest respect for Unspeakables. After all, my mother and grandmother were Unspeakables themselves when they were alive. Director Croaker has proved himself to be an honourable man. I thought you were too, Mr Bode. It's disappointing that for such a brilliant man, you forget that I'm not a weakling. Powering an advanced shield in all directions isn't something I find too difficult after taking care of a Dark Lord."

"H-How is he alive?" exclaimed one of the Muggles. The phoenix screeched threateningly. Harry gently patted the creature. Turning towards them, he smirked. The Muggle yelped when the assault rifle was summoned from his hand, towards the young wizard.

"I've always been curious about these things," muttered Harry as he observed the rifle. "You seem to labour under the delusion that a lone wizard would be no match for a dozen machine guns. What you don't understand, you stupid fools, is that these are filled with bullets made of metal. You then fire it, using the momentum of the bullet as your only weapon. Magic, on the other hand, is pure energy. Fire how many ever bullets you want, but you won't be able to shatter a well-conjured shield. That is something your puny brains can't comprehend."

Bode and his partner drew their wands in preparation while Harry spoke.

The phoenix spotted this. Screeching loudly, the creature flapped its wings, creating a gust of wind. Harry immediately summoned Bode before he could be attacked. The rest, however, gasped for air. The area around them was filled with the vacuum of space. Their bodies began to swell. They experienced loss of vision and their brain was unable to process thought. Blood was gushing from their eyes as they floated in mid-air, dead.

The rogue Unspeakable swallowed when the phoenix turned towards him. It made a threatening noise, but a red jet of light soon impacted his chest, making him black out.

Harry transfigured him into a quill and placed him in his bag. He then turned his attention to the little boy. For twenty minutes, he guided the child through a meditative technique that all students of Occlumency were taught. The nine-year-old boy calmed down until the magic of the Obscurus settled into his body. It would be enough until Newt Scamander, one of the world's leading experts on Obscuri, would take a look at him. While recovery was not guaranteed, it was still possible.

"Come on," he said encouragingly. "Let's get you to St Mungo's." He then turned towards the royal phoenix who was observing him keenly. Harry bowed low in respect, which the creature returned. With a cry, the phoenix disappeared, as if sucked into the abyss of space.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Amelia Black cursed under her breath. Harry had just reported to Croaker that he had rescued the Obscurial. Unfortunately, the little boy was not the only Obscurial present in the bunker. Daphne had detected another, and that had escaped into Muggle London.

It was wreaking havoc everywhere. She had just Apparated at the scene, only to find Dylan looking worse for wear. Daphne was beside him, looking angrier than she had ever seen her.

"Mum, please tell me you're not going to kill that little girl," begged Dylan. "It's not her fault. They were –"

"I know," interrupted Amelia. "Neither Algernon nor I want to kill the Obscurial."

"Where is she?" asked Daphne.

Her question went unanswered as they heard multiple _cracks_ of Apparition. Several witches and wizards wearing black cloaks appeared, immediately rushing to confront the Obscurial.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Amelia, having recognised them. "Kingsley! What is the Special Task Force of the International Confederation doing here?"

The Head Auror replied through the communication device. "Ma'am, we couldn't stop them. They're here after receiving direct orders from Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum. Apparently, they've been told to stop the Obscurial by any means necessary."

"No!" exclaimed Daphne in horror. Within seconds, she Disapparated and found herself in front of the building where the Obscurial had been cornered. Several Muggles stood there, watching with horrified fascination. Police sirens echoed throughout the city just as several teams of Obliviators Apparated to take care of the mess.

"Leave her alone!" Daphne yelled. "She's just a child! Can't you see that? She's still young; she can be cured of the illness. Get away from her!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we have our orders," said the witch crisply. "The Obscurial is a threat to the Statute of Secrecy. Should you interfere, you will be arrested for breaking International Law. Step aside."

Before she could even make a decision, the task force had already started firing spells at the Obscurial. Daphne screamed in fury, blasting the various witches and wizards away as she tried to save the girl. Unfortunately, it was too late. The air was coated with the destruction of the chaotic magic that had once resided in the Obscurial.

Daphne looked at her hands, shaking badly. Tears pricked her eyes and slowly trickled down her face. She had failed in protecting that girl. Her right hand automatically moved towards her stomach.

Would she one day fail in protecting her children too?

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Wizengamot Chambers, Ministry of Magic**_

"– they have not done anything to stop the attacks caused by the Obscurial," said the Bulgarian representative. "It has been two months, and the attacks on the Muggle world are increasing day by day."

Five world leaders stood together, looking incensed, as more voices spoke out against them.

"– Minister Akecheta of MACUSA, at first, didn't even acknowledge that it was an Obscurial –"

"– Minister Saraswati Rao of India has yet to take action –"

"– Minister Wang Li if China has proven himself to be incompetent –"

"– German Minister of Magic Anna Müller should be booted out of office –"

"– It's disgusting how Minister Sirius Black of Britain does not even seem to care about –"

"You know what's disgusting?" snapped a new voice. "It's the fact that the Supreme Mugwump, the leader of the international magical world, condones cold-blooded murder."

Deathly silence gripped the chamber. Sirius blinked in surprise. The room was dimly lit, so it was proving to be difficult for many to see who was standing by the door. He, however, recognised the voice at once.

Many shrieked when two bodies were thrown across the large room, to land at the feet of Ivan Krum. The middle-aged man looked at the intruder furiously as Harry Potter entered the chamber.

"So that's how it's going to be, is it?" Krum asked snidely. "Minister Black allows one of his family members to gate-crash on an international conference."

"How dare you accuse the Supreme Mugwump of murder?" hissed the Bulgarian representative. "Who do you think you are?"

Whispers broke out between the various members as they all recognised the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry bowed respectfully to them, but couldn't help but glare at Krum. His blood was boiling, but his breathing calm and even.

"You can stop accusing these five men and women of not handling the mess the Obscurial is causing, dear members," Harry announced. "The situation has been resolved. The person responsible for the attacks has been caught."

Krum narrowed his eyes. Sirius frowned.

"Meet Broderick Bode, an Unspeakable of the I.C.W.," he said, "and his accomplice, a Muggle named Jackson Barebone."

Minister Akecheta sucked in a breath.

"Do you recognise him?" asked Sirius in surprise.

"Yes," Akecheta replied through gritted teeth. "He's a wanted criminal. His grandmother, Mary Barebone, caused a chain of events that led to Grindelwald nearly exposing the magical world to the Muggles. The Muggle woman was killed by an Obscurial, and their family was reported missing. Ten years ago, he was discovered attempting to once more stir trouble for us. His child was born magical. By recording every instance of accidental magic with a camera, he nearly exposed us once more."

Harry's eyes widened. Was the boy he rescued today the son of Jackson Barebone? He mentally reviewed the memories of the child and compared them with the face of the Muggle in the room. The resemblance was undeniable.

One of the members frowned. "But who is he, exactly?"

Akecheta took a deep breath. "As many of you probably know, until about three hundred years ago, North America did not have a central magical government. Various magical communities in the region managed their own affairs. However, in the late seventeenth century, threats in the form of Scourers demanded the formation of MACUSA. These people, Jackson Barebone's ancestor, for example, were rogue wizards who fled to America from Europe and beyond, masquerading as Muggle immigrants. Without a central force to tackle them, they had free reign to kidnap magical children and give them to Muggles, all for the sake of money!"

"The Salem Witch Trials," observed an Australian member softly.

"Exactly. Once MACUSA's Auror force was formed, the Scourers had to retreat. But they didn't do so quietly. They caused chaos that resulted in the deaths of several witches and wizards. By the time we caught up with them, it was too late. They had disappeared into the Muggle world, intermarrying with Muggles in the region. They kept the knowledge and hatred of magic alive in those families. For all these years, they have been a threat to the Statute of Secrecy. Grindelwald chose to exploit that weakness."

"Unnatural freaks," muttered Barebone, his voice echoing throughout the room.

"Shut up, you filthy Muggle!" spat Akecheta.

"Calm yourself, Minister Akecheta," Krum said sharply. "The Confederation does not condone such bigotry!"

"Filth such as him cannot be given any respect, sir," Harry said quietly, as all the attention was once more back on him. "He and Bode teamed up together to experiment on such children. They tried to manipulate their magic into serving them! And you expect us to remain silent about this? What about _your_ order that caused the death of that girl?"

Krum ignored him. "Aurors," he called. "Please escort Mr Potter out of the room."

"I don't think so," Sirius interrupted. "You are currently in _our_ Ministry building. You cannot order him about."

Harry knew he was on thin ice. Sirius' words were no good here because this was an international emergency session. He, Harry, was not a member, and hence had no business being here. Thankfully, he was rescued by Director Croaker who swiftly entered the chamber.

"Instead of thanking young Lord Potter, his wife and brother for their help, you seem determined to ignore their brave deeds, Your Excellency," said Croaker, looking very angry. "As Head Unspeakable, I'm choosing my right to speak before this body and show you exactly how far this conspiracy goes."

Krum sighed dramatically. "Go ahead."

Croaker removed a phial of Veritaserum and force-fed the two men three drops of it. Soon, Bode and Barebone were under the effects of the serum.

The members listened, horrified, as the two revealed their original plan. Bode had been very dissatisfied with his work and lack of recognition. He wanted more glory for himself, and in preparation, had teamed up with Gnarlak who had introduced him to Jackson Barebone who had several connections in the Muggle underworld. Both men did not get along or like each other, but they put up with the other's presence only for the sake of a united goal – a war between wizards and Muggles.

Bode wanted a war to break out solely for the money and recognition involved. The technology he was testing, using the regenerative properties of phoenixes, the strengthening properties of Re'em blood, and so many others, would be used by wizards in the war. He would sell it to the I.C.W. and make a profit that he would share with Gnarlak as per an agreement. He planned to go down in history as the greatest wizard that ever lived.

Barebone simply wanted to expose the evil wizards to the world and get rid of such filth once and for all. It was simply blind, conditioned hatred.

Many had died due to this conspiracy. Former Head Unspeakable Madam Nisaba had found out about their plans, which was why she had been killed. Young Muggle-borns had been kidnapped and used for experiments, including Barebone's own son. They had then dwelled into the theory of Obscurials. The chaotic magic helped shield their bunker from the scans of the various magical governments. Attacks on the Muggle world, according to Barebone, would quickly escalate the problem, leading to the Muggles discovering the existence of the magical world.

Everyone was silenced after the confession. Even Krum looked horrified.

"But that's not the worst that happened today, ladies and gentlemen," Harry said in a low voice, his greenish-black eyes fixed on the Supreme Mugwump. "His Excellency, Mr Krum, signed an order that sent the Confederation's emergency task force to kill the little girl who had transformed into an Obscurial."

"I don't answer to you, Mr Potter," snapped Krum.

"But you answer to _us_ ," Sirius snarled, speaking on behalf of all the members.

"You ordered them to kill that poor girl?" spat Raghu Patil, the representative of the Indian Ministry of Magic. "She was just eight years old!"

"These two tortured her beyond reason," agreed Madam Valeriya of Russia. "It wasn't her fault!"

"She was a threat to the International Statute of Secrecy!" yelled Krum, losing his cool. Sirius always thought the man was hot-headed, and he was proved right. "It is our job to maintain the existence of the magical world a secret from the Muggles. She had to be stopped! Do you think you could have reasoned with her?"

"I managed to do it," injected Harry. "I found another Obscurial and I helped him control his magical powers. This girl could have been saved, but your stupid, delusional actions led to her death!"

"What about the deaths of all those Muggles she was responsible for?" Krum shot back. "Have you forgotten that, Mr Potter? Those Obscurials are dangerous. Even those who survived shall be taken care of."

There were cries of outrage. Harry shook his head. "They are _children_ ," he spat. The air shimmered as his magic lashed out. Many of the members shivered as they felt it. Krum involuntarily shuddered as well. The magical aura was causing so much heat that beads of sweat formed on his brow.

"This is the International Confederation of _Wizards_ , not Muggles! Its members, each and every one of you, are the representatives of every magical government on the planet. You are all responsible for the magical population of your respective countries. Is this what the I.C.W. has come to? Why are you not protecting the magical population as you promised us? That little girl did not become an Obscurial voluntarily. People like Bode and Barebone tortured her, and that was the cause of the Obscurus. Don't blame the child for the mistakes of others! Tell me, Your Excellency, would you so easily kill your own daughter had she turned into an Obscurial?"

Krum's eyes widened in shock at the question posed to him. More than a hundred eyes observed the Supreme Mugwump who remained silent, trying to deflect the simple question that no one else would answer either.

"That's what I thought," Harry said softly. "It's a sad day indeed when the I.C.W., the supreme governing body of the magical world, fails its most fundamental duty – to keep its citizens safe. I promise you, should you pass an order to execute those poor children, I will lead a rally in every country to rebel against your authority. Don't think I'm not cable of it, Your Excellency."

Minister Acahuana of the Peruvian Ministry of Magic cleared his throat. "That won't be necessary, Mr Potter," he said. "I apologise on behalf of the Confederation to every witch and wizard of the world. What happened this evening was wrong. I give you my word that those children shall not be harmed."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, bowing respectfully. "I apologise for interrupting your session. I shall take my leave."

Murmurs began as Harry left the chamber, many whispering about the sheer magical power the Boy-Who-Lived possessed. None of them had forgotten his aura that was released when he was angry. They were also impressed with his dedication, behaviour and bravery. Harry Potter had gained the respect of many a member of the International Confederation that day.

"You never cease to amaze me, Harry," Sirius muttered under his breath. A smirk formed on his face as he observed Ivan Krum looking uncomfortable. The tables were slowly turning. It was not enough to replace the Supreme Mugwump, but at least Krum had suffered a blow.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Potter Castle**_

It was nighttime. In the bathroom attached to the master bedroom on the second floor, Harry placed his hands on the smooth wall as the hot water from the shower soothed his aching muscles. It had been a long day and not everything had gone according to plan.

The death of that poor girl haunted Harry. Unfortunately, it was troubling Daphne more than him. She was the one who was at the scene and had been powerless to stop it. Dylan was affected too, but Harry was confident that Astoria would help him recover. His brother was currently at Hogwarts, having secretly snuck into the castle and was spending quality time with his girlfriend. Daphne, however, was missing.

After wearing comfortable clothes, Harry made his way downstairs. Years of knowing Daphne ensured that he didn't have to look too far to find her. His legs automatically carried him to the castle's ballroom. From outside, he could hear the beats of music and the sound of bare feet slapping against the marble floor. As expected, Harry found his wife dancing.

Astoria had confessed to Harry once that according to their mother, Daphne had been an unusually quiet child. She rarely spoke to anyone. In fact, she had been a late bloomer when it came to speaking at all. Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass had been worried and had consulted a Pediatric Healer, who recommended that she find other forms of expression. Therefore, since a very young age, Daphne had been trained in three forms of dance – Ballet, Salsa, and Bharatnatyam.

Dancing also helped her cope with her anger issues. Unlike Harry, Daphne found it quite hard to control her temper. With Harry being as closed off as he was and Daphne being short-tempered, it had led to a lot of problems for them as a couple. Over the years, Harry observed that dancing always helped Daphne calm down should her temper flare up. Her skill also gave her the added advantage in duelling. With such fluidic movements, dodging spells came naturally to her.

For nearly an hour, Harry watched as his wife danced to different forms of music, quite amazed by her talent. He didn't dare join her. She was a professional and while his dancing skills were good, it was only cut out for social functions, not classical dance performances. He couldn't ever hope to match her style.

When the music finally stopped, Harry conjured a towel and silently passed it to his wife. Daphne wiped her face with it, breathing heavily. He gently grabbed her wrist and led her outside, towards the lake. The stars were twinkling in the night sky as Daphne rested her back against the trunk of a tree, with her husband's head on her lap.

"What is it?" asked Harry softly. "What's troubling you?"

Daphne remained silent. "I don't think our current plan for the future of the magical world is good enough," she stated, gently running her fingers through his hair.

Harry frowned.

"Think about it, Harry. There are problems we didn't consider. When the Statute of Secrecy was implemented, most of the countries in the world fully separated from the Muggle world. In Europe, due to intermarriage between wizards and Muggles, complete separation was not possible. That resulted in us producing Dark Lords every other generation due to the culture shock that wizards and Muggles face with each other. We bitch and whine about the predicament we find ourselves in, but no one is willing to step up to solve the issue that many have overlooked."

"That was the reason I insisted on constructing Camelot," Harry replied, holding her hand in his. "With three large cities, our entire population will be relocated. We can work with the other European magical governments. That problem can be tackled."

"That's not what I meant," exhaled Daphne. "What I'm trying to say is that the Statute of Secrecy is not helping us; it is, in fact, hindering us."

"I disagree, but continue."

A faint smile formed on Daphne's lips. Such disagreements were what helped them come up with a good plan. They were a team, with two viewpoints that were combined to create a better solution to their problems.

"For three hundred years now, the Statute has shaped our way of life," she said. "It has kept us safe from the threat of Muggles. But it has also hindered us, Harry. We just can't think outside the box! We are so paranoid about secrecy that we are willing to go to _any_ lengths to protect it – including murder an innocent child. What happened tonight was a repeat of history."

"Director Croaker told me that the same thing happened seventy years ago in New York City. The then Minister of MACUSA ordered the execution of an Obscurial, citing the deaths of Muggles. Who are the leaders of our government here to protect? Today's I.C.W meeting was yet another example that proves that we are a society that needs help. Should we ignore the obvious signs now, there can be no chance of recovery in the future."

"Too many words coming from a woman who hates politics," Harry chuckled.

"This isn't politics, it's philosophy. We can't ignore the fact that wizards were involved in this scandal. That shows that we have a serious problem. If there are people willing to sacrifice _everyone_ , just to make money, what does that mean? Had Bode and Barebone succeeded, it would have meant _war_. Can you imagine the repercussions of a global war with the Muggles?"

 _'–_ _a holy war will end it all ...'_

Harry took a deep breath, trying not to think of the prophecy. That fact was nagging him too. It made him doubt himself, and he didn't like that feeling at all.

"We can't blame Muggles for all our problems," Daphne said quietly. " _We_ created most of our problems and blame them for our mistakes. That just highlights our stupidity. I understand that you hate them, Harry, but you have to realise that you're not the only one. The number of wizards who dislike Muggles comprise of two-thirds of the world's population. The Statute of Secrecy compounded that hatred. Dark wizards like Grindelwald and Voldemort, not to mention their supporters, did not appear out of thin air and –"

"– neither did I," muttered Harry.

There was a pause. "Don't say that," she snapped. "You are no Voldemort!"

"Maybe not," he acknowledged. "But don't you think I seem like the second coming of Grindelwald?"

Daphne paused. "Grindelwald tried to tear down the Statute; you're trying to enforce it more rigidly."

Harry shrugged. "It's the same thing from different points of view. How many have we killed, Daphne?"

"It's not the way of a warrior to –"

"Except I'm not an Auror!" snapped Harry. "We have been acting outside the law! How do expect people to follow the law when we ourselves don't? Yes, I now understand that we have some serious problems in the magical world. I let my blind hatred for Muggles cloud my judgement. Maybe Hermione Granger is right, and I'm a fucking bigot of the first order. Who then would be willing to listen to me?"

"You convinced the International Confederation to listen to your point of view," observed Daphne.

Harry snorted uncharacteristically.

"Yeah, and when I propose we amend the Statute of Secrecy, do you think all those members will praise me for my intellect? I'll be branded the new Dark Lord! I killed a man when I was eleven years old. I didn't mind killing innumerable Death Eaters to win the war with Voldemort. I manipulated Draco Malfoy to swear fealty to me. I am helping relocate witches and wizards from their homes, and if there are wizards married to Muggles, complete separation would tear them apart. How am I different from Albus Dumbledore?"

Daphne remained silent.

"The greater good is important," she confessed. "We were too immature to realise that during the Voldemort war. But we know better now. Albus Dumbledore was a leader who was trying to save his people. That cannot be denied. But he was also a man who sacrificed the innocent to save the guilty. You are not such a person. I know you, Harry. Yes, you murdered Professor Quirrell, who, incidentally, was possessed by Lord Voldemort. Did you ever think about what could have happened had Lucius Malfoy found out about his master's continued existence that year? The war would have been far deadlier."

"Yes, you killed Death Eaters. You and I may not be Aurors, but we both trained ourselves to be warriors. It was not murder, but a fight for justice. I have interacted with several learned philosophers in Inbu-Hedj, and what they told me is that society needs to adapt and change with time! If the government is corrupt and does not take action, the people need to step in. Otherwise, society will crumble! The magical world needs a breath of fresh air. Maybe that's what the prophecy is referring to. We need a stable leader."

" _Stable?_ Don't discount the fact that both you and I lost control," said Harry. "I lost it on the day when you and Dylan were kidnapped, and you, this evening."

Daphne cringed. She too knew that her anger had reached epic proportions just several hours earlier. Deep in her heart, Daphne was worried, for she didn't know what might trigger such an incident once more in the future. She was unsure of how she would react should she find herself in a situation that drove her over the edge.

Hopefully, such a scenario would never come to pass.

"The Statute of Secrecy," Harry continued, "was essential for our protection. You make valid points, and I agree that it has led to stagnation and paranoia. We simply can't think of anything outside the Statute. We scurry in the gutter like cockroaches. Do you even know how many times MACUSA has shifted its headquarters due to fear of being discovered? It's ridiculous! There are just over three hundred million witches and wizards in the world, while the Muggles account for more than seven billion. Those are not good odds. Overall, though, I think the Statute has done more good than harm."

Daphne hummed. They both enjoyed the peaceful silence, his head still on her lap, their fingers intertwined.

"I think I have a way for us to avoid too much of a scandal with the amendment you are proposing to the International Statute of Secrecy," said Daphne.

"Really? I'm all ears."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Somewhere underground in Egypt, North Africa**_

Ragnok watched anxiously as the rest of the imperial council stood up in respect. King Ragnuk, his great-uncle, had just taken his seat on the throne. The goblin straightened his back. He couldn't let his nervousness show. The future of their race depended on this meeting. The imperial council had assured him that he would succeed. Now all he had to do was wait for the right moment.

"Your Majesty," began one of the goblins. "British Minister of Magic Sirius Black has once more approached me for a meeting. He is requesting that we reconsider our decision in maintaining that branch of Gringotts in Diagon Alley. Apparently, Camelot –"

King Ragnuk waved his hand dismissively, baring his pointed teeth. "I don't care about that stupid human. How goes the mission to rescue Gnarlak?"

Ragnok cleared his throat. "Actually, Your Majesty, he has already been rescued."

The aged goblin's eyes narrowed. "And why was I not informed about this?" he thundered.

"That's because the person who delivered Gnarlak to us was Dylan Lestrange, the younger brother of Harry Potter."

The king's dark eyes were slits of fury. "The same Potter who caught and tortured Gnarlak in the first place?" he snarled. "I shall not rest until Potter's intestines decorate my palace. You dare keep this from me?"

Ragnok scrutinized the king's reaction. "You are willing to risk a war with the humans?" he asked. "Do you even know how many, besides humans, have a vested interest in the boy?"

The members of the imperial council looked very eager for the response.

King Ragnuk waved his hand dismissively. "I have nothing to fear from a child who survived due to luck. As for humans, I think it is time we show them –"

"You are willing to risk the lives of our people in order to satisfy your lust for Potter's blood, all in the name of revenge?"

"You will address me with respect! I am your king!"

"Not for long," said one the female goblins of the imperial council. "Your grandnephew, Ragnok, is contesting for your place as king, Your Majesty."

"You dare –"

Ragnok didn't hesitate. He held his sword by his side, waiting to strike. Goblin culture was mostly war-based, which meant only the strongest would get to be king, while the wisest would get to sit on the imperial council.

"I knew it! You have all been listening to those blasted Elves!" thundered King Ragnuk. When the council remained silent, the goblin snarled. "The Elves have never helped us! Have you forgotten that? They have always allied with the humans and the humans have always allied with the Elves. That's how it has always been. We were lucky that their alliance collapsed so long ago. They assured us help over the centuries, but not once did they come forward to assist us in battle."

"Elves don't fight like goblins," another council member shot back.

"That's because they're weak! Just like their cursed ancestors, the house-elves! I protected you all from becoming just another slave to the humans, and this is how you treat me? You rebel?"

"And we are grateful for your rule, Your Majesty, but times are changing," said Ragnok. "This is not about goblins versus humans, but about the very survival of magic. We don't have a choice. I have been contacted by Perenelle Fl –"

King Ragnuk howled in fury as he charged. The members of the imperial council stepped back as they watched the swords of the two goblin warriors repeatedly clash against the other. It was a close fight. Both of them were exceptional. Should Ragnok lose, the imperial council would be executed for treason. Should he win, they would have a new king, as per the ancient laws of their ancestors.

The sword finally pierced the heart of King Ragnuk. With a thud, he fell to the floor. The goblins now had a new king. Still breathing heavily, face splattered with blood, King Ragnok gave his first command to the imperial council.

"Arrange a meeting with Sirius Black. Gringotts shall be moved to Camelot as soon as possible. Begin preparations for its construction. Also, arrange a meeting with the Queen of the Elves."

"It shall be done, Your Majesty."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Six months later ...**_

 _ **April 2009**_

 _ **St Mungo's Hospital, London**_

Harry James Potter stood next to his wife, looking very uncomfortable. Daphne was sitting on a hospital bed, her face puffed up, sweating profusely. The environmental charms did not seem to help any.

Daphne groaned. "I can't take it anymore!" she cried. "Get these babies out of me, NOW!"

A hint of a smile formed on his face. "Well, it was you who declined to opt for any other procedure other than a vaginal birth," he said, gently caressing the side of her face with his fingers.

"That doesn't mean I can't complain about it!"

"Daph, maybe –"

"No," declared Daphne. "Our children shall be born naturally. A few hours here and there won't matter. I can handle it."

Harry exhaled in frustration. Vaginal birth was considered more auspicious in wizarding culture due to the belief that the mother produced a form of protective magic during birth that was absorbed by the child. While many expectant mothers opted for other forms of delivery, there were some, like Daphne, who did not mind any amount of pain, just to secrete that special magic, which some theorised, was just superstition.

Superstition or not, Daphne wouldn't budge, even if she was in labour for nearly fifteen hours.

Harry mentally huffed. From the brief moments he had spent outside in the waiting room, he knew that Dylan found the whole ordeal highly amusing.

 _Just wait until it's your turn,_ he thought vindictively. Harry was distracted when his wife painfully squeezed his hand as another contraction hit her.

"It'll end very soon," he said awkwardly. He really had no idea how to comfort his wife who was in labour. Thankfully, she understood that he was out of his depth here and didn't castrate him in anger.

He had heard that reattaching genitals was very painful. Maybe he could lead Dylan in here and expose him to an irate Daphne? He could then determine if the procedure was really as painful as people claimed.

Decisions, decisions ...

"Daphne, you're ready," said Elizabeth Greengrass, bringing Harry to the present. "I need you to push, now!"

Harry gulped. The torture that he underwent at the hands of Voldemort, Rodolphus and Bellatrix combined paled in comparison to what Daphne was currently going through. How did women all over the world deal with that sort of pain? Harry's respect for his wife only increased manyfold. He was witnessing one of the miracles of creation.

Daphne collapsed, breathing heavily as she gave birth to their son, Charles Alfred Potter, but before he could get a good look at the new-born infant, the healers took their child away. Just thirty seconds later, she gave birth to a girl, Belladonna Lillian Potter, who was again taken into the care of the healers as Elizabeth helped her eldest daughter with the after-birth procedure.

"You did it," whispered Harry, kissing his wife's forehead. Daphne smiled weakly, kissing his chin affectionately.

"That was the scariest experience of my life, and I've seen Voldemort being reborn!"

Daphne chuckled. "Nothing was going to happen to me. I told you that."

"I know," sighed Harry. "I really don't think I would have been able to handle it."

"What? Giving birth to babies?"

"Yes! Bloody hell, just watching it made me cringe! I really mean no offence, but I'm so glad I was born a boy. I don't have to go through that sort of pain."

"Coward," teased Daphne as he slowly helped her sit up.

Just a few moments later, they heard babies crying. Two healers brought their newborn infants over to them. Harry and Daphne couldn't help but smile happily.

"I don't think I've seen anything this beautiful since Rigel was born," Harry confessed softly as he held his daughter. Daphne nodded, looking amazed as she held her son near her bosom. The boy, his eyes still closed, inherently recognised the magical presence of his mother as his mouth found her nipple and began suckling.

"Hello, Charlie," whispered Daphne, gently running a finger over her son's face. "I'm your Mummy. This is your Daddy. Welcome to the world."

Harry smiled as he gently placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "You as well, Bella," he said softly.

Once their oldest was done, they switched, with Daphne now feeding their daughter as Harry cradled his son.

"Do you think we can tour the world with two infants who would most definitely have inherited their Grandfather James' penchant for mischief?" joked Harry.

"Make that three," Daphne muttered. "If you want one more, I'm certainly not willing to wait. I want to get it over with once and for all."

"Ah, I knew you did not enjoy the process of giving birth."

" _Enjoy?_ Do you think I'm a psychopath?"

"Do you really want me to answer that question?"

Daphne glared at him. "The reason I haven't cursed you is that you're holding our son in your arms. I can always do it later."

Harry smiled. "I'll be sure to remember that."

Sitting side by side, the couple watched their children sleep, both of them beaming with happiness.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _I apologise for not uploading a new chapter recently, but I was finding it difficult to write this scene. You have no idea how many times I've rewritten the chapter over the past two weeks. Also, Merry Christmas everyone, and Happy New Year in advance as well!_**

 ** _As for everyone else, thanks for the reviews!_**


	49. The Grand Sorcerers

_**Chapter 49**_

 _ **The Grand Sorcerers**_

 _ **Six years later ...**_

 _ **August 2015**_

Somewhere deep in the magical province of Siberia, hundreds of kilometres from Lena City, the capital of the Siberian Ministry of Magic, a burly figure was quickly walking along a grassy path. He was six feet three inches in height, with moderately long brown hair that slightly curled at the tips. His shoulders were stiff with tension, grey eyes narrowed in concentration as he gripped his wand tightly; he seemed to be expecting an attack of some sort.

Twenty-three-year-old Dylan Lestrange suddenly moved out of the way as he dodged the incoming curses. A predatory smile formed on his lips, even though he had been under constant attack for the past two weeks. It had been a test for survival. Siberia was definitely beautiful during this time of year, but the examiners of the famed _Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic_ could turn the area into one of the deadliest in the world.

Jets of multi-coloured light flew at him from all directions. Dylan dodged them but didn't stray from his position too much. Acrobatics and using body movements to their advantage was Harry and Daphne's style, not his. He preferred a more refined approach with precision strikes, and over the years, he had perfected it due to the rigorous training offered to him by his Master and the rest of the academy instructors.

Neatly taking a few steps forward and backwards, Dylan slashed his wand while using wandless magic with his left hand. Pure ripples of magic were the testament to the control he had over his powers. Using the surrounding area to his advantage, he wandlessly broke the branch of a tree and flung it towards his enemies. When he sensed a group approaching him from behind, he twirled sideways, with his hand outstretched.

Bolts of lightning flew from his fingertips and impacted the attacking party. Dylan didn't waste time. Moving forward, disabling another enchantment, he continued. This final test had been designed without any remorse in the heart of the examiner. It was a practical test, luring some of the more dangerous assassins in the world, all paid to test a willing cadet who agreed to go through with it. Not all the cadets of the academy were allowed to even consider taking this particular test. It was meant for the elite – and no one in the history of the academy had ever survived it. It was a big risk, both on the part of the academy instructors and the cadet in question.

The exam was completely voluntary, but Dylan would hardly miss the chance to immediately rise up the ranks once he graduated. The other graduates would have to wait a long time for advancement, but those who passed this test would be given a special opportunity – and he would not let it go to waste.

Their plan depended on it.

Flying without the help of the broom, Dylan cast an explosion curse at the ground.

He took a deep breath. What was left of the assault party was trapped. There was no need for these wizards to die. Greedy scum, these assassins and bounty hunters may be, but Dylan didn't want to kill them. They could be rescued by the academy personnel later.

Flying to an appropriate altitude, Dylan twisted in mid-air and Disapparated.

Several hours later, once he was fully healed and showered, he found himself standing in a circular room that served as the office of the academy's headmistress.

"Impressive, cadet," the witch said, nodding in approval. "I have never witnessed anyone complete that exam, not only in my tenure but in the history of this academy itself. Your Master should be proud."

"Thank you, ma'am."

That was high praise coming from her, especially considering how she refrained from positively commenting on the progress of any of the cadets, demanding improvement. Madam Aicanã of Magical Brazil was known for keeping her distance, maintaining the façade of a very strict disciplinarian.

Dylan doubted that was her true self. He was sure she only kept that mask on to control the people in the academy. They could not handle another Grindelwald incident.

Madam Aicanã looked at him shrewdly. "Have you changed your mind since that conversation you had with your Master six months ago?"

"No ma'am," Dylan answered. "I wouldn't have signed up for this exam had I wished to seek my fortunes elsewhere. I have made my decision, and I was hoping to seek your approval."

A hint of a smile formed on her face. "You certainly do, young man. If you still want to go through with it, then sign this contract."

He scanned the contents of the sheet of parchment. This contract was only temporary, to be replaced by a permanent one in the future. Not that he cared. Daphne had long ago conducted experiments to prove that magical contracts did not have any effect on the three of them.

Once he signed it, Madam Aicanã stood up and shook his hand. "Congratulations on successfully graduating from the academy. Welcome to the Department of Mysteries, Mr Lestrange."

Dylan bowed respectfully, but his grey eyes were gleaming with excitement and satisfaction. Quickly walking down the corridors of the building, he entered his room. His belongings had already been packed. Shrinking his trunk, he placed it in his pocket and proceeded towards the main door. The cold Siberian air hit his face as he moved into the open. For five minutes, he silently walked until he reached the Apparition point. Dylan looked one last time at the ancient building. For six years, it had been his home. Taking a deep breath, he Disapparated.

It was nighttime, and Lena City was bustling with people. The city reflected the architecture of the native Siberian witches and wizards. The capital city itself had been named after one of the five major rivers in the region. The natives considered the rivers to be sacred and worshipped them as they worshipped Mother Magic herself. Since ice and water were their main focus, the magical populace of Lena City had constructed a massive statue dedicated to the White Phoenix, the sacred bird that symbolized the holy element of water. Other statues of ancient witches and wizards from their history dominated the high street that led to the dome-shaped building which served as the headquarters of the Siberian Ministry of Magic.

Dylan passed through the security checkpoints with the air of having done it hundreds of times over the past six years. Many of the Ministry employees even greeted him happily. An amused smile formed on his lips as he entered the division for international travel.

"Your Portkey leaves in two minutes, Mr Lestrange," said the wizard. "When can we expect you back?"

"I'm afraid my business here is done, sir," Dylan chuckled humourlessly.

"Ah, that's a shame," he sighed. "Well, good luck, kid. It'll be weird not seeing you every week."

Dylan thought so too. He stood at the designated place, holding his Portkey. At the precise moment, there was a tug behind his navel and a few uncomfortable seconds later, he was standing in a similar office. Rays from the afternoon sun streamed inside from the windows as he heard an automated voice say –

 _'Welcome to the city of Camelot. The Ministry of Magic of Avalon wishes you a good day.'_

"Lord Lestrange," gushed the witch at the International Portkey Terminal. "It's good to see you again. Shall I arrange a return Portkey to Lena City?"

"No," Dylan said softly. "Not Lena City. I'll be travelling to Mesopotamia in two days. Please make the necessary arrangements, madam."

"Understood. The Portkey to Bābili will be ready for your departure, Lord Lestrange. Have a nice day."

Thanking her, he walked towards the domestic Floo terminal. With a flash of green flames, he was transported to Potter Castle. He was itching to see his wife once again, who had just returned after finishing her studies in international magical law.

It was good to be home.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Bābili, capital of the magical province of Mesopotamia**_

The room was dimly lit and was circular in shape. Six people were seated on a pedestal, with equal distance between each chair, as if portraying that they were all equals. It was said to promote debate, and the room signified a space where different knowledgeable witches and wizards could exchange ideas. This magnificent room, designed by Mesopotamian architects, had been in use for centuries by learned people who earned their Sorcerer degrees. It was here that the late wizard Albus Dumbledore himself had been bestowed the title of Grand Sorcerer for his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood.

While the outer circumference of the room held those six seats, the inner circumference was empty, with a dim light shining from the ceiling. This was the place where the aspiring Sorcerers would showcase their talent to the world.

Head Unspeakable Algernon Croaker was seated in one of the six chairs. He stroked his chin in contemplation. The witch to his left, Madam Kotomi of Magical Japan, the chairman of the Sorcerer's Council, cleared her throat and announced, "We are gathered here today to judge the presentation of two highly renowned Masters in their fields. Step forward, Mr and Mrs Potter."

Twenty-five-year-old Daphne Potter bowed to the council, followed her husband. "We are honoured to be here," she said.

Standing six feet in height, her deep blue eyes shining brightly, Daphne cut an impressive figure. The lavishly decorated flowing robes that she used to prefer wearing during her teenage years were gone, to be replaced by skin-tight clothes that aided her in agility. While her movements appeared naturally graceful due to being an accomplished dancer, one could observe the lean muscle in her arms and legs, showing that she was stronger than she appeared. Her long dark-blonde hair was tied up, held by a bejewelled hair clip. Dangling diamond earrings sparkled in the dim light and her basilisk-hide boots made tapping noises against the polished floor. She looked like a warrior ready for battle.

Harry too was similarly dressed, with dark blue form-fitting clothes, having completely foregone outer robes of any kind that hindered quick movement. His moderately long raven-black hair, usually loose, was tied in a low ponytail. A silver locket that hung from around his neck gleamed under the lighting charms. About four inches taller than his wife, he literally radiated power. Broad shoulders and a toned chest and stomach gave him a muscular physique, just like his younger brother, Dylan. The faint lightning bolt shaped scar that defined the Boy-Who-Lived was still visible on his forehead. The most distinguishing feature about the young man was definitely his eyes that were literally the shade of the _Avada Kedavra_ curse – the colour of death.

The past six years had changed them. Having witnessed the betrayal of the rogue Unspeakables, Harry, Daphne and Dylan had realised that just because Lord Voldemort had been defeated, that was not an end to the danger. They had, unconsciously, let their guard down during a time of peace. They realised their mistake and that was now showing in their mannerisms. The three of them would never be held back again. The future of the magical world depended on their survival and victory.

It had taken them seven years to reach this stage, two years more than what they had planned for. Finally, Harry and Daphne were in front of the Sorcerer's Council, ready to present their work.

"What do you have for us?" asked Madam Kotomi.

Harry flicked his wand, conjuring six copies of their thesis which he distributed to the members of the council. Daphne stepped forward.

"Honoured members of the council, what my husband and I are presenting to you this morning is something that is on par with the trend in today's world," she explained. "Enchanting and magical innovation over the past ten years has shaped magical technology like nothing we have seen in recent times. Our original ideas were to present our research papers separately, but when we kept hitting roadblocks in our personal projects, we decided to combine them for better implementation."

With a flick of his wand, Harry conjured a rectangular black stone. "You've all seen this," he said. "It's a ward stone, used to power various powerful enchantments. It comes in different sizes and configurations. Such technology has been in use for nearly two thousand years. We have never been able to develop a suitable substitute for anything that can absorb and harness a huge amount of magical energy that is required to protect our homes or enchant our biggest devices. My goal was to replace this aged technology with something else. Something that can be adapted to other devices and one that can absorb and use more magical energy than some of the biggest and most expensive ward stones we currently have at our disposal."

Croaker leaned forward with interest. His curiosity was piqued.

Daphne took over. She removed a wand from within her expanded pocket. She flicked it, but instead of a spell, the wand turned into a rubber chicken. It was one of Fred and George Weasley's fake wands, very popular among children.

"Self-casting wands," she continued. "No one has ever been able to produce them, mostly because a wand is just a piece of wood, combined with powerful materials. It is a magical focus. This wand, a prank item made for children, does not cast spells. There are practice wands that are produced for children below the age of eleven, but those are just cheaper substitutes for wands. Magical foci that produce spells on their own have never been successfully invented by anyone. I wanted to break that barrier, and this has been my main focus of research."

Daphne ignored the excited whispers as she removed a small object from within her bag. The said object was shaped like a pyramid and was six inches in height. It was glowing red from the inside. Her fingers touched the second object, a cube that was glowing blue, but after a split second hesitation, she decided not to remove it. Harry conjured a thick slab of stone at the other end of the room.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call an _Asthron_ ," Daphne explained. "I have programmed it to my specifications."

"But this isn't a wand," countered one of the wizards among the six.

"No, sir, it is not. But it is most definitely a magical focus. Let me demonstrate."

Harry discreetly nodded to his wife. Daphne held a piece of glass – her computer – in hand as she activated the _Asthron_. The small pyramid glowed a dark shade of red as it automatically levitated itself a few feet from the ground. The tip which was facing the ceiling changed direction until it was pointed towards the stone slab.

Daphne observed the expressions of the six gathered there. All of them were sceptical about what the _Asthron_ could do. Croaker, though, while sceptical, also looked curious and intrigued.

"Fire," she said softly. There was a split second _beep_ before a jet of red light flew from the tip of the _Asthron_ and impacted the stone slab, destroying it. The shards scraped the shields which Harry had erected, but the spell had done its job.

Harry smiled faintly at the gobsmacked looks on the faces of their evaluators. Not wanting to halt the display, he swiftly conjured a dozen stone slabs in all directions. With another flick of his wand, he made them move around the room randomly. Daphne was just as quick to follow, her fingers tapping on the computer screen. With a wave of her hand, the _Asthron_ activated once more. Moving in all directions with surprising speed and accuracy, jets of red light kept hitting the various blocks of stone which Harry had conjured. The area looked like a war zone after five minutes.

"That was a Reductor Curse," explained Daphne. "That was all I had programmed for this particular _Asthron_. Yes, it's not a wand. But it's a lot better. It doesn't need a wizard to hold it in his hand to operate it. Many other spells can be programmed into it as well."

The actual intention of the device went unsaid. It was primarily a weapon of war. Of the six, only Croaker understood that, and his face was grim. The others were excited.

"How are you able to channel so much magic for the device to work?" one of them inquired.

Daphne turned towards her husband, who walked towards the centre of the room. Removing a phial, he revealed a luminescent blue fluidic substance that was contained within.

"This is my invention," he said. "An alchemical liquid I call _Varasma_. It conducts magic in ways that magically enforced granite and magical crystals used in mirrors can never hope to compete. A few drops of it are all that is required for the _Asthron_ to work. It occupies less space and is more flexible than granite and crystals."

Croaker was impressed. The potential these two offered was enormous. It would fundamentally change the very nature of their society. Protective enchantments using _Varasma_ as a conduit of magic would prove to be more beneficial and less difficult to maintain. Powering smaller devices would also be less of a hindrance. The _Asthron_ could be used for a variety of devices. Automation would most definitely be developed in different fields of magical technology.

The next several hours were spent in discussing and explaining the nature of the devices and the magical principles involved in their creation. It was past five in the evening when the council asked them to leave the room, giving them some time to talk among themselves.

"What do you think?" asked Daphne.

Harry paused. "Well, we've made it clear that we do not intend to sell our products in the international market. That certainly seemed to reassure them. The _Asthron_ would surely be dangerous in the wrong hands –"

"– as would a _Varasma_ infused _Asthron_ ," interrupted Daphne, levitating a cubic device that was glowing blue in colour. "I don't want them to know about this. It would most definitely cause panic. Croaker already looks weary."

"Agreed. What do you think, Dylan?"

The younger man sitting next to them looked at the blue _Asthron_ introspectively. "I agree as well," he said quietly. "Do you think you can make Croaker see things from our point of view?"

"We have to," shrugged Daphne. "Our plans depend on it. Complete secrecy is one thing, but not being prepared for war, even if we try our best to avoid it, is idiotic. Good job on that test, by the way."

Dylan simply smiled.

Five minutes later, the couple was called back inside the room. Facing the council, they waited for Madam Kotomi to speak.

"Examining the projects of aspiring Sorcerers is never easy," she said, looking critically at Harry and Daphne. "No matter how knowledgeable our council may be, we still have much to learn. A new source of tapping into magical reserves is something that was never experimented upon. Self-casting magical foci were never successful. But you both have beaten the odds. We all debated on the matter, and we're glad that you're not going to market your products just yet. I don't have to tell you that we could have serious problems on our hands should rogue wizards get their hands on it. However, given your reputation and skill, I have no doubt you will keep your inventions safe. You both have breathed air in an area of magic that had never been tapped before. Therefore, on behalf of this council, it is my greatest pleasure to award you both the title of _Grand Sorcerer_. Congratulations to you both, Harry and Daphne Potter."

The couple bowed to the members of the council who stood up, applauding for the youngest Grand Sorcerers the world had ever seen. After shaking hands with everyone, Croaker motioned them to an adjacent room. The door opened and Dylan quietly entered as well.

Croaker took a seat and exhaled. "You three are certainly something special," he admitted after a pause. Looking at Dylan, he spoke, "You managed to single-handedly defeat a group of the deadliest assassins in the world. In my opinion, that blasted test should never have existed, and there was a very high possibility that you could have died like every other cadet who took that exam over the years, but you prevailed. How, I do not know."

"You," he said, looking at Daphne, "managed to create a device so intricately designed that you can change the way we view magical technology. I'm not sure if you meant it to cast mundane spells or destructive curses, but you certainly breached a barrier. No one has ever managed to program a device to cast spells. People have tried many, _many_ times, but they have failed. But you succeeded."

"And finally, the one who wants to change the way we power all heavy enchantments," Croaker said, looking at Harry, his gaze soft with affection. "Alchemy is a very rare branch of magic that is not seen frequently. _Varasma_ is an alchemical discovery that can open new possibilities for us all."

He paused. "In essence, you three are revolutionaries. But I'm not stupid, and I certainly do not expect you to be idiots either. You want something. And you are also hiding something. What is it?"

Harry remained stoic. Extracting an orb from inside his pocket, he passed it to the older man. Croaker seemed surprised, but he tapped the orb with his wand. A ghostly image of Sybill Trelawney rose from within its depths and spoke in a harsh voice –

" _The one with the power to restore balance has been chosen ... the one who has already fulfilled the terms of a prophecy, the one marked by the Dark Lord as his equal. He shall emerge at a time when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon. The ones cursed by Magic have begun their path to chaos ... the balance shall be broken, the secret ousted, and a holy war shall end it all. Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that shall decide our fate. The one chosen by Magic, touched by Death, flanked by tigress and wolf, will be forced to restore balance, but should he fail, Magic shall consume us all. The Saviour of Magic has been chosen ... chosen to fulfil his destiny ..."_

The figure sunk back into the depths of the orb and vanished. Croaker remained silent as he tried to wonder what the prophecy could mean. Mentally, he made plans to verify if it was genuine, but his gut kept telling him that it made sense. For years, he had heard strange whispers from different sources. Many magical creatures were behaving strangely. Wizard-goblin relations were at an all-time high. The Centaurs and Vampires were not as hostile as before. The Veela Queen had taken an active interest to interact with the I.C.W., promoting more bilateral talks between them. Even his father's old friend, Garrick Ollivander, was hinting at something strange.

"The secret shall be ousted?" he asked finally. "Just to clear the air, what secret do you three feel she is referring to?"

Harry smiled faintly. "What is the biggest secret of our age? It's the very existence of magic itself. Sir, you know as well as I do that she's referring to the International Statute of Secrecy."

Croaker took a deep, shaky breath. "Let's say for the sake of discussion that I believe this prophecy is genuine. In that case, from what I know of her previous prophecy, there is no doubt that it is you. I may not understand all of it, but that much certainly makes sense to me. Let's be frank. What do you want?"

"We are not interested in war, Director Croaker," Dylan said quietly. "The war with Voldemort was enough, and we are not eager for another. However, that doesn't mean we should sit idle and do nothing. We are trying our very best to prevent war. The biggest measure we decided upon was _complete secrecy_. We want to fully separate from the Muggles – globally."

"The Magical Orphans Act where you rescued those Muggle-born orphans," observed Croaker, nodding along. "And you also initiated the construction of Camelot, Godric's Hollow and Hogsmeade."

"Over the past six years, with our combined influence, we have managed to convince the rest of the Magical European governments and also MACUSA to implement the same plan for their countries as well," elaborated Daphne. "Construction is nearly finished. In six months, there will be no wizarding settlement within Muggle areas anywhere in the world. Complete separation would then be possible."

Croaker nodded. He could certainly see the merits of the plan. And he was not the least bit surprised that Harry and Daphne had managed to convince the heads of all those magical countries to relocate and construct non-Muggle cities. The Obscurial incident six years ago had increased their fame globally, and they had been invited to various soirees by influential politicians. Their hold in the international political sphere had slowly grown over time, and they could certainly be considered as among the most powerful people in the world – and they had not even actively entered politics yet.

Their new titles of Grand Sorcerer would only serve to increase the respect they had in the eyes of the common witch and wizard.

"Alright. I see your point. But you have also been working on the what-if scenario that a war indeed breaks out between wizards and Muggles, am I right? And I assume that was the reason you took that deadly test, Dylan?"

"Yes sir," nodded Dylan. "As per the terms of the contract of the exam, should I be successful, the Department of Mysteries shall help me create a sub-department, with me as the head. I've already decided what that is going to be."

"Let's get it over with," exhaled Croaker, rubbing his temples with his fingers. The stress of the day was getting to him.

"I want the emergency task force under my command," Dylan stated. "I'm qualified to mentor and lead them, sir. If a war indeed breaks out, we will be grossly unprepared without sufficient training. Muggles don't use wands."

Harry bit his lip in contemplation. While he wasn't fully on board with this idea, he could see its uses. Not everyone was as skilled as him, Daphne or Dylan. They needed training.

"The task force also needs to be increased in size," said Harry, "by a factor of ten, if not more. Sir, you are the Head Unspeakable. I cannot impress upon you the seriousness of what is going on. I have never lied to you. You might think this prophecy is a fake but I assure you, it's not. You can run tests later to prove its authenticity. But for now, please consider our request."

"What about you, Daphne?" asked Croaker critically. "Since you aren't willing to sell or publish your work, there has to be something to it."

Daphne nodded. "I want to improve upon the _Asthron_ , sir. I was hoping to have a research team of my own in your department."

Croaker chuckled humourlessly. "I feel like you three are cornering me from all directions," he said wryly. "And something tells me that you have yet to make your demands known, Harry. Let me be frank with you. I _need_ to run some tests on the _Varasma_ you have invented. Such technology would surely help me with _my_ research projects. Name your price."

Harry smiled faintly. "I only want you to continue what you already do, what you are famous for. Sir, in exchange for my alchemical discovery, I want you to research more into the magic of time travel. Only, there is a certain twist I'm hoping you will agree with."

Croaker's face lit up as Harry described it to him. He laughed. "Oh, this is no problem at all," he said, still chuckling. "With a new source of magical reserves, I can't wait to begin my experiments. The costs would surely come down drastically without the heavy use of traditional ward stones. I'm in. Is that all?"

Harry nodded. The four of them spent another hour discussing and compromising on their terms until they finally reached consensus. Croaker handed both Daphne and Dylan badges made of gold, with an intricate crest on it, stamped with the seal – _D.O.M_.

"Congratulations, Daphne, Dylan," smiled Croaker. "You both are now officially Unspeakables. I shall expect to see you at work from Monday."

With a satisfied smile, Croaker grabbed the phial containing _Varasma_ and Disapparated. He had a lot of work to do and he was giddy with excitement.

Harry might think the Head Unspeakable got the short end of the stick, but for someone like Croaker, whose passion was to discover the intricacies of time magic, any help was beneficial; especially if he could power his time devices with the help of _Varasma_ , thus dwelling deeper into his research project.

Dylan grabbed his brother and sister-in-law in a hug, wrapping his arms around them tightly. "I'm so proud of you both," he said excitedly.

Harry and Daphne chuckled. "Thanks, brat," he said teasingly. "If you think I'm going to congratulate you, then you're delusional!"

Daphne's shoulders slumped. "Please don't start," she groaned. "I'm exhausted, and I don't have the patience to deal with you eggheads tonight."

Dylan's jaw dropped in shock and mock outrage. "Daph, how could you call me an egghead?" he exclaimed. "That's Harry, remember?"

"You are what I say you are."

He huffed. "You and Astoria are most definitely related," he muttered under his breath. "Both of you say the same thing and I'm left with no retort."

"That's only because you're scared of me," Daphne teased, pinching his cheek affectionately.

Dylan puffed out his chest proudly. "I'll have you know, I, Dylan Lestrange, am scared of nothing. In fact – _bloody fucking hell_ , get that lizard out of my face!"

Daphne laughed hysterically as she watched Dylan scramble to get away from the lizard Harry had conjured. Her husband was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, a hint of a smirk on his usually expressionless face, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"You were saying something about not being scared of anything?" asked Harry casually.

"Bloody git," cursed Dylan under his breath. "Be careful, or I'll knock your teeth out!"

"Bring it on, little brother!"

"All right, wrap it up," Daphne intervened. Turning towards her brother-in-law, she said, "You have a wife to get home to, and we have three children waiting for us at the hotel. Let's go."

"I'll so get back at you," whispered Dylan in Harry's ear, carefully ensuring that Daphne couldn't overhear.

Harry smirked at him, ruffling his brother's hair. "You're on," he shot back softly.

Chucking in amusement, Dylan shook his head and Disapparated to the International Floo Terminal in the city. Harry and Daphne too Disapparated without a sound and appeared at the Apparition point near their hotel. The air was filled with the noise of the crowded city. The native architecture and cultural landmarks of the Mesopotamian witches and wizards could be seen everywhere.

"Daph, do you think you can manage on your own?" asked Harry quietly. "I promised Master Nicolas that I would see him once the presentation was complete."

"Sure, go ahead," replied Daphne. Cupping his cheek, she kissed him softly. "I'll take the kids back home after dinner."

Harry nodded and Disapparated to the International Portkey Terminal. Walking up the front steps of the hotel, Daphne entered the building, only to freeze when she saw the opulent lobby in disarray.

"Get out of the way, coming through!"

Daphne's jaw dropped as she dived to the ground. The small broomstick built for children flew just past her head. She recognised the familiar messy mop of dark-blonde hair. "Charlie, what are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Winning!" grinned six-year-old Charles Potter excitedly.

"Mum, move!"

" _Bella!_ "

Her only daughter, Belladonna, grinned back; her long raven-black hair had come undone from her ponytail. "I'm so going to beat him!" she vowed, flying faster.

"Stop, right now!" ordered Daphne, but it was no use. The twins were literally flying circles in the lobby. The other hotel guests were horrified.

 _Déjà vu._

 _Where is the one who instigated those two into doing this?_

"Yeah, come on, Bella!" jumped five-year-old James Potter excitedly.

Younger to his siblings by ten months, he too had inherited the emerald green eyes of the Slytherin family. His hair was black and unlike his siblings who had a perfect combination of their parents' features, James looked like a miniature version of Harry Potter.

"You can beat him! Fly faster!"

"What is going on here?" exclaimed the hotel manager. "Must I be everywhere?"

Daphne groaned. She was pretty sure her family would be barred from this hotel as well.

"There he is!" Charlie shouted.

"Go for it, big brother!" cheered Belladonna.

Everyone in the lobby watched in shock as the two bodily slammed into a burly wizard, knocking him over. His trunk, still not magically reduced in size, flew across the room due to the force of the collision.

"Madam Potter, please control your children!" the manager exclaimed. Nodding and conveying a silent apology, Daphne waved her hand briskly. Charlie and Belladonna's brooms slowed down, and amidst their protests, she carefully landed them on the ground.

"Mum!" Charlie cried indignantly. "What did you do that for?"

Daphne glared at her oldest son. "You were _flying in the lobby!_ Your actions injured a guest. In Salazar's name, what possessed you to do something like this?"

Belladonna was the quickest to answer. "Mum, when you were gone, Jamie wasn't feeling well," she said, wrapping her arms around her little brother. "We just wanted to make him feel better, honest!

Her bright green eyes were twinkling with mock innocence. It could have fooled the entire world, but not her mother.

"Really?" asked Daphne sceptically. "Is that true, Jamie? Are you unwell?"

James nodded solemnly. Daphne paused when she touched his face. Her youngest son was running a fever.

"Alright, let's get you to a healer," she said softly. "And then – _not so fast you two!_ "

The twins were attempting to escape the scene. She was just about to yell at them but the hotel manager finally caught up with her. It took several minutes for Daphne to soothe his ruffled feathers. After repairing the damage – and paying for the enchanted objects that her children had destroyed – a fuming Daphne led her children up to their suite. Once inside, she rounded on them.

"Well?" Daphne demanded, her hands on her hips. "I am so angry right now that I am this close to grounding you three for all eternity. James, explain yourself!"

"Mummy, I'm not feeling well," he whined. "I didn't do anything! And you always say that I shouldn't overexert myself when I'm sick. Well, stopping Charlie and Bella could have made my fever worse."

"That's a good answer," grumbled Daphne under her breath. Promptly turning towards her oldest, she demanded, "Charlie, what were you thinking?"

"Well, it's just –" began Charlie, fidgeting under her gaze, but he was interrupted.

"No, don't answer that. I know what you're going to say and I've heard the same excuse enough times already. Bella, what was going through your mind?"

"I just wanted to help my brother," she said softly, looking down at her shoes, trying to play the innocent card. Daphne exhaled in frustration. Belladonna was James Potter and Sirius Black's granddaughter through and through. A born Marauder.

"Come on, Mum, it wasn't anything bad," defended Charlie. "Besides, we were bored and _mumph_!"

Belladonna slapped her hand against her brother's mouth to prevent him from blowing their cover story but it was too late. Her eyes were wide with panic as she slowly looked towards her mother. Daphne looked like a hungry tigress that had caught her prey.

" _Bored?_ You flew your brooms in the lobby of one of the most opulent hotels in the world, destroyed several of their expensive items and injured a guest, all because you were _bored?_ This is not the first time you three have done something like this! I thought Australia was bad enough, but this incident is way over the top! Do you even know how much I had to pay to repair the damage? Just because we have money doesn't mean we can waste it like this! Once, just _once_ , would it kill you to behave?"

Daphne rolled her eyes when her children began making gagging noises, as though they were about to die. Here she was, scolding them, and they were taking it with a grain of salt? She was utterly confused! They never acted this carefree when she was angry. Her children usually listened to her, mostly because she was the parent who enforced discipline.

Harry was the 'fun' parent – making her look bad in the process – because he found it impossible to raise his voice to his children. Ever.

But what could she do? With her husband that useless in disciplining them, she had to be strict with them. Spoilt, they may be, but she knew not to take it too far. Daphne didn't want her kids to turn out like how Draco Malfoy had been at that age. Thankfully, while they were mischievous, they certainly weren't arrogant. Since they were magical, their physical and mental development was much faster as compared to their Muggle counterparts. They had already begun developing their own interests.

Charlie was the athletic one and the strongest physically as well. He enjoyed watching his Dad and Uncle Dylan spar frequently and had already begged his parents to enrol him in a school for martial arts once they were permanently back to living in Potter Castle. Charlie was also most definitely his mother's son. He had certainly inherited Daphne's temper.

Belladonna, on the other hand, was by far the best flyer. She had inherited her father's skill on a broom and was constantly flying whenever she got the chance. She was also the most cunning of the three.

James, Harry and Daphne's youngest child, was the most unique. He was not as strong as his older siblings, but he was definitely the smartest. Always having a book in hand, James was mostly silent, except when his siblings got him involved in some mischievous scheme or the other.

"That reminds me, where's your babysitter?"

The twins looked at each other, looking strangely smug. Even James was smirking. Charlie hesitantly pointed towards his bedroom. Daphne frowned and quickly moved to investigate. When she opened the door, her eyes widened. She had to bite her tongue from trying not to burst out laughing.

Their babysitter was given a monkey's tail and donkey ears. The poor woman was covered in paint, all in different colours. Worst of all, she was strapped to a chair, with several ropes binding her. Her wand was on the floor at the far end of the room. When Daphne opened the door, a banana pie flew from the desk and landed with a wet splat on the babysitter's face.

With a quick wave of her wand, Daphne repaired the room and vanished the mess the 'prank' had caused. Finally, with great reluctance, she cancelled the silencing charm.

"Fred, George, I'm going to burn down each of your shops one day," muttered Daphne under her breath.

"THAT'S IT!" yelled the babysitter. "I've had it with those three hooligans! Never am I coming back here and I'll tell all my co-workers to avoid this family at all costs! Look what they did to me!"

Daphne was about to apologise when she felt someone tug her robes. Looking down she spotted James eyeing her. Crouching to his level, she asked, "What is it, Jamie?"

"I caught her in your bedroom trying to steal your jewellery," whispered James, as if it were a big conspiracy. "She was trying to disable the alert charms, but I caught her. Charlie and Bella decided to teach her a lesson before you and Daddy could come back."

"Oh."

"Do you like it, Mum?" smirked Belladonna.

"It's our best work yet!" Charlie exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. "Grandpa Sirius will be pleased!"

A hint of a smile formed on her lips as she saw the beaming and proud smiles on her children's faces. Wanting to check if their theory was right, she cast a powerful Compulsion Charm on the babysitter, forcing her to tell the truth.

"Did you attempt to steal my jewellery?" she asked.

The woman struggled, but she had no experience with Occlumency to repel the charm. The words were wrenched from her mouth. "Yes. And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those meddling kids!"

Daphne pursed her lips in anger, extending her hand towards the wall. A small glass screen appeared and she pressed it with her palm. A communication channel activated, redirecting her to the lobby.

"Hotel security, please report to my suite immediately."

"Yeah!" cheered Charlie, fist-pumping his brother and sister as the three of them danced around excitedly. James quickly felt dizzy because of the fever and had to sit down. Just a couple of seconds later, Daphne felt the enchantments in the suite beginning to wane as two security wizards Apparated directly into the living room along with the manager.

As the wizards took the babysitter downstairs to 'escort' her out of the hotel, the manager looked at Daphne shrewdly.

"Mrs Potter, I owe your kids my thanks," he said reluctantly. "The guest they knocked down turned out to be a thief. Nothing big, a small-time crook – and a bit of an idiot, actually – but he had just ransacked one of our other guests after disabling the wards. He was going to make a run for it, but from what we can make out, your children eavesdropped on his conversation and found out about it. The – incident – in the lobby was probably to try to capture him and reveal the contents of his trunk. Whatever those kids planned, it certainly worked. We managed to recover all the stolen items. I'll transfer the amount which you paid tonight back to your bank account. Good night."

Daphne blinked in surprise. Once they were alone, she turned towards her kids, all three of them who were grinning proudly. An amused smile formed on her lips.

"I didn't know you three wanted to become Aurors," she teased. "Two thieves in one night? How did you even listen in on their conversation?"

"He and our babysitter were going to steal from us too," explained Belladonna.

"And we used this," said Charlie, holding an Extendable Ear, "to help us listen. We tied her up and planned to nab the other guy in the lobby ... which was when you walked in."

"Are we still grounded, Mummy?" asked James cheekily.

"Grounded?" Daphne chuckled. "You mean like back at the castle, with palatial accommodations, E-Mirrors in each of your rooms, a swimming pool, broomsticks, and house-elves? That's not punishment, that's royal treatment."

"Daddy already calls me princess," laughed Belladonna.

Daphne snorted in amusement. Kneeling down in front of them, she waited expectantly. The three of them squealed as they jumped into the arms of their mother. She closed her eyes in contentment, breathing deeply.

"I'm so proud of you kids," Daphne whispered, inhaling their scents that had become so familiar. "But promise me that you'll never put yourself in such danger again!"

"Yes, Mummy," they chorused. It wasn't a promise, but that was all she would get at the moment.

Daphne kissed their foreheads affectionately. They may be among the most troublesome kids on the planet, but she and Harry wouldn't give them up for anything in the world.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _Some have asked me why I would name Harry and Daphne's daughter 'Bella'. Well, that's mostly because I like the name 'Belladonna' and it fits with the character I want to build for their daughter. Also, Bellatrix and Belladonna are completely different. One is a star and the other is a flower. Only the nickname is the same, and it was also Harry's way of honouring his mother by naming his daughter after a flower. I personally don't like naming children in the same generation 'James and Lily', which was why I changed it._**

 ** _Also, as I have repeatedly explained in previous chapters, in my story, magical children develop faster physically and mentally as compared to muggles. So in comparison, the kids are eight and nine years old in muggle years, and you'll have to see them as such._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews everyone, and sorry for the delay!_**


	50. Allies Revealed

_**Chapter 50**_

 _ **Allies Revealed**_

 _ **Ayodhya, capital of the magical province of India**_

The ancient city was merry with activity as Harry walked down the high street. Since India fell to the east of Mesopotamia, it was nearly ten in the night when he arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in the Ministry building. Even though it was quite late, the wizarding city was still bustling with activity, a phenomenon Harry realised, was common around the world. Bright lights and massive temples dominated the layout of Ayodhya, and so did large statues and sculptures dedicated to ancient Indian witches and wizards, their rich cultural heritage on display for all to see. Like the recently constructed New York City, the new headquarters of MACUSA, this beautiful city too had a Muggle namesake several kilometres away, with this one being a purely wizarding settlement.

Briefly stopping for dinner, Harry Apparated to his intended destination – a modest house set on the banks of the Sarayu River on the outskirts of Ayodhya. An amused smile formed on Harry's face as he briskly entered the house, the wards having instantly recognized him. His mentor was sitting in the living room, reading a book.

"Master, what is it with you and rivers?" Harry couldn't help but tease. "Each and every house that you and Lady Perenelle own is set on the banks of a river. Do you love the water that much?"

Nicolas Flamel smiled mysteriously. The room was lit only by the glow coming from the fireplace.

"I'm afraid Perenelle and I love water as much as we love air," Nicolas chuckled. "We can't seem to exist without it! Perhaps you can cure us of this illness?"

Harry smiled faintly at the poor attempt at humour. Like him, his master wasn't really good at making people laugh.

"Come. Sit, my _chela_. And tell me what happened in Bābili."

"The council granted us both the title of Grand Sorcerer, Master," Harry said softly.

Nicolas was beaming with pride. "I knew you could do it, Harry," he said. "I never lost faith in you. Did you speak to the Head Unspeakable?"

"Yes, Master. Croaker was initially leery about the _Asthron_ , but I think we managed to make him see things from our point of view. I brought him into the fold and told him about the prophecy. He didn't agree to all our demands, but Daphne and Dylan did get into the Department of Mysteries as high ranking Unspeakables."

"Good, _chela_ ; very good," said Nicolas. He looked at Harry and hesitated.

Harry picked up on it at once. "What is it, Master?"

"You have completed your training in Alchemy, my child, and have exceeded my expectations in every way possible. Do you remember the condition in which I accepted you as my apprentice?"

"That you wouldn't limit my training to Alchemy alone, and that you will teach me more aspects of magic that you feel is essential for me to learn."

Nicolas nodded as he scrutinized Harry's expressionless face. "Well, the time is right for us to begin. Tell me, what do you know about Divination?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. He paused to gather his thoughts before answering. "It is an extremely ancient form of magic," he answered. "It has existed ever since humans realised they could wield magic outside their bodies – the primitive humans who were still evolving – and that was a very, _very_ long time ago. Other magical species have their own versions of Divination, with the Centaurs universally considered the best in the art."

"Go on. How did Divination help at the end of the ice age?"

"At the end of the ice age, when the sea levels rose rapidly, Divination was the only source of warning for the population that a calamity was to strike upon them soon. Seers were able to predict the destruction of various magical cities and civilizations, and it was their efforts that led to our species from not becoming extinct. It is for that reason that Seers are respected and revered to this day. They are seen as messengers of Mother Magic, and it is a terrible crime to attack or use a Seer for your own benefit."

"Very good," praised Nicolas. "Now think back to your earliest lessons in magical history and tell me ... if Seers had indeed warned various kings and queens about the impending rise in sea levels, why didn't they heed their warning?"

"They did listen –"

"– not all of them, _chela_ ," Nicolas shook his head. "History has been muddled, and not many wizards know their true origin. Most of the wizarding royalty at the time ignored the warnings of Seers. The common people were divided; some listened to them, while the others chose to agree with their leaders, sitting contently, not knowing that nature was slowly ending their great civilizations for good."

Harry was confused. Where was his master going with this?

"Those ancient civilizations were spread all over the planet. They were an advanced society, and even without wands, their grasp on magic was exceptional, much like our civilization today. They were warned of a disaster, years, and in some cases, even _decades_ in advance, but they didn't budge. Many witches and wizards left for safety, but by the time most of the population realised what had happened, it was too late. Atlantis, for example, a thriving and powerful magical kingdom thousands of years ago, is at the bottom of the ocean. Many more kingdoms and empires joined them. These people were warned ... and yet they chose not to listen to the magic of Divination. Why do you think this was?"

Harry was silent.

" _Think_ , _chela_ ," Nicolas urged softly. "You can answer this."

"Bad leadership was the cause of their downfall," answered Harry quietly. "The kings and queens of the era were tasked with the protection of their people. They were arrogant enough to dismiss the claims of Seers or perhaps thought they could change the future. The common witches and wizards didn't want to leave because they're afraid of change. They all thought they were capable of taking on the brunt of nature's fury."

"Yes ... and no. It was not nature's fury, Harry. Some things are meant to happen, whether we like it or not. It is the will of Magic itself. The planet has a life-cycle. Anyone who can sense the planet's magical activity can tell you as such. The end of the ice age was normal. The ancient witches and wizards were just not willing to think such a calamity was beyond their capabilities. Most of them perished as a result. Those remaining were the ancestors of the magical humans we see today. Divination saved the human species from extinction."

"So you're saying that prophecies _always_ come true?" frowned Harry. "I really don't believe that, Master. Had Grandfather Alfred not trained me since the time I was a child, I would have been ignorant of the existence of the magical world until I was eleven years old. My father would still be in Azkaban. Dumbledore would have moulded me into the boy that he wanted me to be. Had that happened, Voldemort would have won, or at least, the war would have resulted in the deaths of thousands. My entire life was changed _only_ due to my magic whisking me away to Potter Castle. How then, would the prophecy have been fulfilled?"

"Prophesies are not mere ramblings of a drunken woman," Nicolas chuckled. "Ignorant people will tell you that a prophecy can be ignored; that not all of them are fulfilled. But you have to realise that these words are the warnings of Mother Magic herself – through a Seer. Prophecies _always_ come true, without a doubt, in some form or the other. Sometimes you may not even realise that it has been fulfilled. They account for _all_ possibilities. Even had you been a naïve child under Albus' guidance, I believe you would have still prevailed in the war against Voldemort. The war may have lasted longer, with enormous destruction and loss of lives, _but you would have won_. The magic of Fate is one of the purest forms of magic there is. Voldemort lost because he was stupid enough to think he was superior to Mother Magic, the primordial energy that created the universe itself. What arrogance! Such a disgusting creature could never hope to survive."

Harry was silent.

"This new prophecy," continued Nicolas, "was not only foretold by Sybill Trelawney but was also foreseen by every Seer in the world. And not all of them are humans. Most of them belong to other magical species. Why do you think the goblins respect you as much as they do? Two years ago, when you visited the Veela colony in France, why do you think the Queen invited you and your wife to her court? _They know the prophecy exists!_ Not the human one, but the prophecy they had in their own culture. Your birth and eventual rise may have been foreseen centuries ago! That belief was maintained to this day, which is why you see so many magical species interacting with each other without hostility, a phenomenon you couldn't hope to see just a decade ago! They recognize you for who you are, and they're all working towards a single goal – the survival of magic."

"Who overheard Trelawney's prophecy?" asked Harry curiously.

Nicolas smiled. "She's one of your friends, _chela_. A very gifted and wise Seer named Luna Lovegood, the granddaughter of the famed wandmaker, Garrick Ollivander, who, incidentally, is a Seer himself."

"Ah."

Harry took a deep breath. "So what you're saying is," he said cautiously, "there is no way a war with the Muggles can be avoided? That the prophecy will come true, regardless of what Daphne, Dylan and I are trying to do to prevent exposure?"

"That is my belief," Nicolas said softly. "But I'm not a Seer. I honestly didn't fully understand the prophecy myself. Your friend, Luna, might be able to explain it to you better. You might want to ask her. However, I can certainly confirm that you do have allies. Allies that were thought to have disappeared a long time ago."

Harry's curiosity was piqued.

Nicolas took a deep breath. "But before I do, I have a confession to make."

A faint smirk appeared on Harry's lips as he spoke, "You and Lady Perenelle are not human. Is that it?"

The shock on the face of his master confirmed it. Nicolas Flamel was dumbfounded as he stared at his apprentice, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"H-How did you know?" he exclaimed.

"I suspected it ever since our first meeting, Master. Your aura was way off as compared to any other wizard. It was like nothing I had ever witnessed before. I never questioned you, but I did confide the matter with my wife. Daphne is a lot better at sensing magic than I am. The moment she met you and Lady Perenelle six years ago in Inbu-Hedj, she realised that you both are masquerading as humans."

"Amazing," Nicolas muttered to himself.

"The next clue you gave us was when you started calling me your _chela_. We spent years looking for any clue that would identify which language the word originated from. Finally, we stumbled upon a very old manuscript in the ruins of an ancient wizarding settlement in Magical India that explained the meaning of the word to us – _apprentice; disciple._ Daphne spent more time analysing the language, trying to understand where it came from."

Harry looked at his master shrewdly. "She believes you and Lady Perenelle are High-Elves. Is she wrong?"

Nicolas couldn't help but laugh. "It is rare to find such beauty and intelligence in one person, Harry. You are certainly lucky to have her as your partner in destiny."

The younger man simply smiled.

"Daphne was correct. Perenelle are I are Elves."

" _Elves?_ " asked Harry in surprise. "Not High-Elves?"

"The prefix was added in recent centuries by wizards. There is no such thing as High-Elves or Wood Elves or House Elves. There is only one species – Elves."

This was certainly an eye-opener. Harry was dazed. "But the house-elves –" he protested, but was interrupted.

"– are a lot different and weaker than us," explained Nicolas. "That is not a story I can tell you. I'm sure, in time, the Queen of the Elves shall explain to you in detail about the house-elves, and why the Elves and humans – magical humans – have traditionally been allies, and why the Elves disappeared into obscurity thousands of years ago."

Harry simply sat, pondering about the latest development. "Then the Philosopher's Stone," he said slowly.

"Is a fake," laughed Nicolas. "Nothing in the world can make one truly immortal. Voldemort, for all his so-called advanced knowledge of the Dark Arts, never realised that even Horcruxes have a specified time before the soul withers into nothingness. The laws of magic cannot be broken. I always thought he was an idiot for believing himself to be truly immortal. He may have lived longer than any other wizard. Perhaps another hundred years or so … but he would have still died at some point. Horcruxes prevent one's death should they be attacked, but it wouldn't prevent your death should you die naturally. If Horcruxes could grant true immortality, then why is Herpo the Foul still not alive today? If Horcruxes were the only solution to complete immortality as Voldemort believed, we would have immortal wizards everywhere. All you have to do is kill ... assassins and bounty hunters will be the first to attempt the ritual. Unfortunately, it's not that simple."

The green eyes belonging to the Boy-Who-Lived narrowed in calculation. The Deathly Hallows were not made by mere mortals. The voice in the back of his mind whispered to him again. The laws of magic that Nicolas spoke of didn't seem to apply to him, Daphne and Dylan.

"As for Perenelle and I, we are merely agents of the Queen. We were tasked to masquerade as wizards and live in their society – all for one purpose. Wait for you to be born and assist you in your destiny."

"You waited for seven hundred years?!"

"When the existence of magic is threatened, seven hundred years is a short time. Besides, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel are not our true names. They are only titles given to those Elves who live like us. In fact, we are the third generation of Flamels. The first Flamel couple set up everything necessary to interact with the wizarding society. The second couple rose to fame after spreading rumours about the Philosopher's Stone. Thanks to the work done by Perenelle Flamel I, it worked wonders. We are Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel III."

Harry exhaled. It was a lot to take in. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He also sensed a shimmer of magic as his master's elaborate Elvin glamour was unravelled. Dark-blue skin with large, pointed ears, orange eyes and sharp nails appeared on his body.

"I understand that all this is stressful, young one," Nicolas said gently. "But we still have time to prepare. Perenelle has been interacting with several magical species for years, waiting for the right time to introduce you to them. You do not have to worry about that. Right now, all I want you to do is focus on becoming the leader of the wizarding community. The rest will fall into place once you are the Supreme Mugwump. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Master," Harry nodded. He hesitated. "Six years ago, you promised that you will not manipulate me and that even if you withheld information, you would reveal it to me at the right time. Thank you for not going back on your word. I'm honoured to be your _chela_."

Nicolas smiled, his orange eyes suspiciously moist as he patted Harry's head.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Potter Castle**_

Astoria Lestrange gasped and moaned as she wrapped her arms and legs around her husband. Her grip on him was so tight that her nails dug into his flesh, drawing blood. Not that Dylan cared. He continued to pleasure his wife as he thrust his thick cock in and out of her vagina, making passionate love to her.

After they achieved orgasm, with Dylan spilling his seed deep inside her, he finally collapsed next to his wife, breathing heavily. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat and magic. Astoria was gasping for breath, riding out the after-effects of the latest orgasm. Her left leg was still twitching as Dylan's flaccid penis slipped out of her spent vaginal opening.

"How," she gasped, "how do you have the strength to do that over and over again? And how in the world are you so good at it?"

A hint of a smirk formed on Dylan's face, his mischievous eyes twinkling, but he didn't answer her. Instead, he kissed her softly, enjoying the tender moments he was able to spend with his wife.

He had still not told her about the Deathly Hallows. Harry and Daphne had urged him to confess to Astoria, but Dylan had decided not to. It would only bring unending pain to her, and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

Truthfully, Dylan didn't want to think about it either.

Successful marriages were formed when partners were honest with each other, true, but there were some secrets that were still too big for a marriage to handle.

And this was one such secret.

They simply lay in each other's arms, enjoying their post-coital bliss. Astoria kept looking at him, gently running her fingers through his slightly curly hair with one hand while occasionally fondling his balls with the other. As she did so, the young woman couldn't help but reflect on her marriage to Dylan Lestrange.

Their relationship had not been easy over the past six years. Like Harry and Daphne, they too had several problems and obstacles they had to overcome. Unfortunately, they also had to deal with the pain of separation at the age of sixteen, when Dylan went to Siberia to attend the academy. Astoria was brought out of her thoughts when she felt her husband gently squeeze her hand.

"I still can't believe you agreed to marry me," Dylan said softly.

Astoria smiled, intertwining her fingers with his. "I married you because I love you," she confessed.

"Then why did you –"

"Why did I reject your proposal the first time around?"

Dylan nodded hesitantly. That was an incident no one knew about. Not even Harry and Daphne. He had proposed to Astoria four years ago, when they were eighteen. She had rejected him, and he had never understood why that was. Their relationship had been tense for months after the incident and Dylan honestly thought there was no future for them. But slowly, over time, they were able to make their relationship work again, and just six months ago, the couple had gotten married.

"I rejected your proposal because I didn't know if I truly belonged in your life," answered Astoria truthfully.

There was a pause. " _What?_ " Dylan exclaimed loudly. "Astoria, I've loved you for _years!_ Why would you ever doubt that?"

"I never doubted your love for me, Dylan. But at the time, I was still not ready to accept the truth, even if it had been in front of my face since the beginning. As I grew older, I accepted reality for what it was. I decided to live in the present and enjoy the moment instead of thinking too much about something that is beyond my control."

"Tori, you're not making any sense."

Astoria smiled, though there was a hint of sadness to it. "What I meant was, at the time, I couldn't handle the fact that I'm not the most important person in your life."

"Astoria, you are the –"

She placed her finger to his lips, interrupting him. "You don't have to say that, Dylan," she said softly. "No matter what you claim to me otherwise, Harry and Daphne are – and will always be – the most important people in your life. And I'm almost positive they feel the same way about you. Sometimes they act like you're more important to them than their own children. It's very subtle, but I've observed it – in all three of you."

He was speechless, his eyes wide with shock. _What could he possibly say to that?_

"The truth was clear as day, but I didn't want to accept it." Astoria gently cupped his face, looking at him lovingly. "Four years ago, I was mad at you. I was also mad at my sister and brother-in-law because I knew that they meant more to you than anyone in the world. Your actions portray that. If someone asked you to circle the entire universe, you'd probably just point at them and say they're you're whole world. It is not just sibling loyalty. It's much more than that. But I've come to accept it because I love you, and I can't imagine living my life without you, just like _you_ can't exist without _them_ in your life. But I realised that it doesn't matter. Harry and Daphne have been through a lot. They have suffered, and so have you. How can I bring myself to cause you any more pain?"

"Astoria, I never meant to make you unhappy," Dylan croaked out.

"Dylan, it's not your fault. That's just who you are. Trust me, I couldn't have asked for a better husband than you. No offence to my sister, but I'm _very_ glad that you're not like Harry. I'm blessed to be married to a man who is one of the most romantic, passionate and considerate lovers that nature has ever produced. You _do_ make me happy and I know that you love me unconditionally. What more could I ask for?"

His grey eyes glistened with tears as Astoria buried her face in his muscular chest, breathing softly as she went to sleep. Dylan hugged her tightly as tears fell from his eyes and into her soft brown hair.

"You're right, Astoria," he admitted softly. "But you're truly a great woman for marrying me despite knowing that. You may not be with me until the very end, for I don't know how long I will live, but I promise you, I will cherish you, keep you happy and make all your dreams come true to the best of my ability. I love you."

Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, nuzzling her face affectionately, Dylan too drifted off to sleep. A hint of a smile formed on Astoria's face as she wrapped a leg around her husband.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

The Floo in the entrance hall burst into green flames as Harry stepped out. Yawning, he slowly walked up the marble stairs and to the second floor. He paused outside Dylan and Astoria's room. He could sense his brother's turmoil through their bond, but he knew that he couldn't disturb the couple. Moving forward, he opened the door of his oldest son's bedroom, frowning when he saw that Charlie wasn't there. The next two rooms were also empty.

Harry rolled his eyes in fond exasperation when he found all three of his children sprawled across his bed, pestering their mother to once again tell the story of how their parents got married.

A story that was probably the most boring one in existence, but since the children loved it, Harry had to bear with it. When she realised that her husband was home, Daphne's eyes twinkled with mischief.

"– and then we got married here, at the castle."

Belladonna crinkled her nose. "That's it?" she cried in frustration. "Daddy is not romantic _at all!_ "

Daphne couldn't help but laugh, staring at her husband who looked mock-offended. "I guess you're right," she teased. "What was I thinking, getting married to a man who doesn't even know the meaning of the word romantic?"

"So that's how it's going to be, huh? My family is making fun of me when I'm away!"

"Daddy!" exclaimed Charlie. Harry caught him just in time as the boy jumped into his father's arms. "You'll never guess what happened today!"

"We caught a thief!" James grinned, jumping on the bed excitedly.

"Not one, but two!" Belladonna said, looking very pleased with herself.

Harry simply raised an eyebrow at his wife. Daphne sighed, shaking her head. Now was not the time to chastise them. The two of them would have to speak to them later so that such incidents wouldn't happen again. A soft conversation could accomplish more than yelling, especially for kids their age.

For one hour, Harry listened as his children excitedly recited the story about what happened at the hotel in Bābili. Finally, Charlie frowned.

"You should smile more, Daddy," he said. "See? Mum does it!"

Harry burst out laughing as he hugged the boy closer. "No one has ever dared to say that to my face," he chuckled. "Look, Daphne! After twenty-five years, I'm being told to smile by my children who won't take no for an answer!"

"See?" Belladonna said, pinching her father's cheek. "You look so cute when you smile, Daddy! Now I want you to smile all the time, okay?"

"I'll try, princess," Harry said, kissing her forehead affectionately. "Now come on. It's past your bedtime."

The twins whined, but James nodded sleepily. Grumbling, Charlie and Belladonna went to their rooms. After ensuring that they were tucked in bed, Harry returned, only to find James refusing to leave.

"I don't wanna sleep alone," he whined.

Harry chuckled and slipped into bed. "Oh, Jamie … what are you going to do once you go to Hogwarts?"

James huffed as he sat on his father's stomach, folding his small arms across his chest. "I'm never going to Hogwarts!" he declared.

"Why not?" exclaimed Daphne in surprise. "Don't you want to enjoy your teenage years at school?"

The five-year-old boy shook his head. "Uh-uh! If I go to Hogwarts, then I'll have to leave you! And I'll never leave you and Daddy. I'll be with you forever and ever!"

A shadow passed over Harry and Daphne's faces, but it was gone before James could see it.

Harry lightly tapped the tip of his son's nose. "We still have six years for that, don't we?" he said softly, kissing James' hand. "We can make a decision then. Jamie, you're burning up!"

"He has a fever," Daphne yawned. "Don't worry. I've given him the potion. He'll be fine by tomorrow morning."

James squealed with delight as his father levitated him, gently floating him in between the couple. Quite exhausted, the little boy cuddled up to his mother and was off like a light within a minute.

"What is it?" whispered Daphne, having picked up on it immediately as she gently rocked her son.

"You were right about Master Nicolas," Harry answered softly. "He and Lady Perenelle are Elves."

He spent the next several minutes briefing her about what his master had told him. Daphne didn't look surprised.

"You might want to talk to Luna as soon as possible," she advised. "The more we know, the better we can prepare."

Harry nodded. "I need to talk to Astoria too. She knows more about magical law and regulations than any of us. I'll certainly need her help in order to amend the International Statute of Secrecy."

Daphne hummed. "Good night, Harry," she said softly, hugging James closer. Harry smiled, kissed his son's head affectionately as his eyes drifted shut too.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Nesebar, capital of the magical province of Bulgaria**_

Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum threw the newspaper down in disgust as he read the headlines.

 _HARRY AND DAPHNE POTTER_ _AWARDED THE TITLE OF GRAND SORCERER_

Of all the people in the world, why them? Why couldn't the Sorcerer's Council have simply laughed in Potter's face when he showed up? Krum's blood boiled as he saw the smiling face of Harry Potter that was on the front page of the newspaper.

With an angry flick of his wand, the newspaper burst into flames. Krum took deep breaths to calm himself. His opulent surroundings still looked too alien to him. The previous building that housed the headquarters of the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic had been shifted here, a new city that was a purely wizarding settlement. It disgusted Krum that he had been unable to stop it. The poison inflicted by Potter's words and fame had seeped far and wide.

The mirror on his desk vibrated, and his secretary's face appeared on the screen.

"Sir, Miss Hermione Granger is here to see you."

Krum nodded. "Show her in."

Less than a minute later, twenty-five-year-old Hermione Granger entered the room, smiling at the leader of the international magical community whom she had met several times over the years due to her line of work. She respected Ivan Krum a great deal, and the Supreme Mugwump was also quite fond of her.

"Thank you for seeing me, Your Excellency," she said. "I hope I didn't disturb you."

"Not at all, Hermione," Krum shook his head. "Please take a seat. What can I do for you?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm afraid I'm here for the same reason as last time. The I.C.W.'s latest trade bill is causing unrest in our Wizengamot. Apparently, they feel that trading with the Muggles will be a violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. I was sent here to tell you that Britain will be voting against it."

Krum snorted. "That's nothing unexpected." He surveyed her critically. "So, they've finally given you the promotion that you rightfully deserve."

The young brunette flushed with pleasure at that. "Yes, Your Excellency," Hermione glowed happily. "I'm now the deputy head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"I'm happy for you, Hermione. You are perhaps the brightest witch of your generation. I'm sure you'll scale new heights and one day, perhaps, even become the Minister of Magic."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me."

Krum nodded slowly. "Tell me, Hermione … what do _you_ think of the Free Trade Bill that is tabled before the Confederation?"

"I think it's a very wise move, Your Excellency," Hermione said fervently. "With those ridiculous trade restrictions repealed, wizards can freely trade with Muggles without those outrageous taxes they would otherwise have to pay on such income. How they even put such a restriction is beyond me! Why did the Confederation agree to it at all?"

A low chuckle escaped Krum's lips. "People fear what they don't understand, my dear child. That is true for both wizards as well as Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy was enacted more than three hundred years ago … Muggles have since evolved. I can see it, but my colleagues don't. Ever since I was elected, I've been doing my best to reduce the tensions between our two worlds, just like my predecessor had done."

"Professor Dumbledore?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"Yes," Krum sighed. "He was my mentor. I met him shortly after my family had been slaughtered by Gellert Grindelwald, and it was with his help that I was able to rise to the seat of Supreme Mugwump."

Hermione hesitated. "Your Excellency, I don't mean to pry, but why did Grindelwald target your family? During the Triwizard Tournament, your nephew, Viktor, confessed to me that his grandparents had been murdered, but he never told me why."

A dark look appeared on Ivan Krum's face. "Grindelwald was, in many ways, not unlike Voldemort. He too craved power, only he was far more influential that Voldemort could have ever hoped to be. He amassed a huge army, mostly by promising people power and manipulating them from the shadows. My father was a powerful man in Bulgaria, and he was the only thing that stopped Grindelwald from conquering this country. Grindelwald murdered my parents, and five years later, murdered my wife and child."

"I've heard that … that your wife was a Muggle."

Krum smiled. "Yes," he said softly. "A wonderful woman, she was. I was blessed to have met her. We were married for six years, and our daughter was only four when Grindelwald killed them – to show his might and thus dominate our magical government. He hated Muggles, you see. He wanted a war between wizards and Muggles in order to subjugate everyone, with him as the supreme leader. If not for Professor Dumbledore, we might still be under his oppressive rule."

Hermione smiled. "Professor Dumbledore was truly a great wizard."

"That he was. Unfortunately, there are those who would do anything to destroy the reputation of such a noble soul."

"Your Excellency, are you referring to Harry Potter?"

Krum growled in anger. "That boy has caused innumerable problems! In the past six years, he has destabilized everything that Dumbledore tried to accomplish. Look at your surroundings, Hermione! Where are we? A new city … a city with absolutely no wizard-Muggle interaction at all. Give it a few months, and you'll see the same everywhere in the world. This whole idea sickens me!"

"Then why didn't you stop it, sir?"

"It does not fall under the purview of the I.C.W.," Krum said bitterly. "Only the regional magical governments can take such decisions. I tried to stop it, but no one listened to me. An enlightened idea it was, they said. Harry and Daphne Potter are revolutionaries, they said. _Hippogriff shit!_ Such actions will cause nothing but further divide between the Muggle and magical worlds. With those two now awarded the title of Grand Sorcerer, the biggest achievement that can ever be officially recognised, they'll be unstoppable."

"Potter has always been a pureblood bigot," Hermione sighed. "I should know. I went to school with him."

Krum laughed. "Oh, he's not a pureblood bigot, Hermione. Blood-purity, a problem that was mostly restricted to Magical Europe, is very quickly fading away, to be replaced by the theme of 'magic is might.' Isn't that message displayed outside the Ministry building in Camelot?"

Hermione grimaced.

"This is how Dark Lords began their journey," spat Krum. "They slowly rise to power, seeking support everywhere, appearing as though they want to protect their people, and by the time you realise that he is a Dark Lord, your greatest enemy, they would have already sunk their venomous teeth into the government. You'll be left helpless. This is how Grindelwald and Voldemort took over. And soon, the same will happen again, this time with Harry Potter."

Hermione was aghast. "Your Excellency, surely you are exaggerating!" she cried. "Potter is a bigot, yes, but – but – a _Dark Lord?_ I really don't think –"

"Why not?" snapped Krum. "Let's scrutinise his personality and actions, shall we? He's a known Muggle hater. Professor Dumbledore told me this when the boy was just eleven years old. He's the Lord of the Peverell Clan, the richest family in the world. His adopted father is the British Minister of Magic, and his mother, the head of the British D.M.L.E. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, the only known survivor of the Killing Curse. At the age of sixteen, he defeated Lord Voldemort, one of the most feared Dark Lords in recent centuries, second only to Gellert Grindelwald, and rose to fame because of it. It was him who orchestrated the construction of Camelot and put the idea into Sirius Black's head. It was him who convinced everyone else to do the same, and it was thanks to his efforts that there is no wizarding settlement in Muggle areas anywhere in the world today."

"He walked into an I.C.W. emergency meeting as though he owned the place, and insulted me in front of the entire Confederation. He has the ear of the global Head Unspeakable himself. Potter has spent the last six years interacting with several politicians from around the world. He knows them personally and has earned the respect of each and every one of them. Even the ones who hate him wouldn't dare challenge him, for they are absolutely terrified of his powers. And that fear is not unfounded. Do you even know how many times his political enemies from different parts of the world have tried to assassinate him over the past six years, when they sensed Potter's influence rising and their own political block dwindling? _Seventeen!_ And he has survived each and every encounter, with each of those deadly assassins killed! There is no denying it, for I have felt it myself – he is _ridiculously_ powerful. His political growth has not been sudden, Hermione. It's been gradual. Potter has been working on it for _years!_ "

"His adopted brother, Dylan Lestrange, is considered by many, albeit secretly, as one of the most powerful and talented duellists of our time. His wife, Daphne Potter, is a master in the field of Enchanting. Both of them, very recently, were inducted as Unspeakables. Even as the Supreme Mugwump, I was unable to stop it. Do you know why? Lestrange is a graduate of a school run by the Unspeakables. He's so cunning that he entered into a magically binding contract with the I.C.W. In essence, we can't get rid of him. Daphne Potter," Krum snorted, "is a Grand Sorcerer. People will laugh in my face should I even think of booting her from the department. My sources have told me that Potter will be joining the Wizengamot tomorrow. Mark my words; he will be elected as the Chief Warlock by the end of the week. If he doesn't make himself the head of the British delegation to the I.C.W., then I'll eat my own hand!"

Hermione was stunned.

"Tell me … where does all this lead to? When does it culminate? What are his motives? A powerful wizard who hates Muggles, destroys those who stand in his way, and is seizing power globally … who does that remind you of?"

"Gellert Grindelwald," breathed out Hermione.

"Exactly," Krum chuckled darkly. "I am the Supreme Mugwump, the chosen leader of the entire international magical community. It is my duty to protect them from the wrath of Dark Lords who seek to destroy the world. I swear in the name of Albus Dumbledore, I will do everything in my power to ensure that Harry Potter will never achieve his goals!"

Hermione took deep, shaky breaths so as to calm down. Never had she realised the danger posed to them by Harry Potter. Ivan Krum was truly brilliant to have figured all this out. So, it was without any hesitation that she said, "I am with you, Your Excellency. I promise to help you in any way I can."

"I knew I could count on you, my dear child," Krum said, his eyes soft with fatherly affection. He leaned forward. "I'll take care of a few things from my end, but this is what I want you to do."

Hermione listened attentively.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _Creating a villain who will pose a challenge was certainly difficult. I've tried my best to portray Krum and Hermione as good people who see things from a different point of view. Will their actions in the future make them bad, due to changing circumstances? We'll know only later. But for now, at this point, it is not wrong to say that there can be good people on both sides of a war._**

 ** _I know that many of you don't really like the pairing of Dylan and Astoria. But the problem I faced way back then was that I didn't have anyone else to pair him with and I certainly didn't want another O.C. Astoria was perfect for him. That scene was essential for me to explain the unique relationship Dylan shares with Harry and Daphne. You'll understand what I wanted to portray when you read the epilogue. Again, I also want you to know that none of the characters here is perfect. They all have flaws, and also have good qualities that define them. Showing their development has been my focus, and I hope I have conveyed that in my story._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	51. Prophecy and Politics

_**Chapter 51**_

 _ **Prophecy and Politics**_

 ** _DISCLAIMER:_ _No one described in the chapters of this story relates to any living or deceased person in the real world. Any references to government titles and such are purely fictional._**

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _ **The Hogwarts Magical Creatures' Sanctuary**_

"They really are the most misunderstood creatures, aren't they?" asked Luna Scamander, formerly Lovegood, softly. She regularly visited Hogwarts on weekends to spend time with some of the more exotic creatures, and that was where Harry Potter found her.

The Thestral calf slowly moved forward, eyeing the piece of meat in her hand hopefully. Luna smiled as she threw it on the ground. The calf hungrily devoured it, but not before bowing deeply towards the man with emerald green eyes standing before it.

"It's strange," frowned Luna. "I've never seen Thestrals act this way around anyone before. All of them bowed to you, and that is something Thestrals don't do at all."

Harry smiled softly. He knew why. Thestrals were creatures of death. They could sense who he was – the _Master of Death_. They were naturally inclined to respect him.

"Maybe it's another mystery for you and your husband to solve," said Harry. "How have you been, Luna?"

"I've been great, Harry, thank you!" beamed Luna. "Rolf and I are planning to open a hospital for magical creatures. It's sad that there are no healers who specialise in such areas anywhere in the country."

"That's a very good idea, Luna, I'm happy for you," praised Harry. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, "I'm afraid I'm not here for a social visit."

"I know. You're here for the prophecy."

"Yes. I was hoping you could explain to me what it meant."

Luna paused as she threw the last of the meat towards the Thestrals. With a flick of his wand, she cleaned her hand and vanished the bag. "Prophecies are very tricky to understand, Harry. They account for all scenarios and different people interpret it in various ways. Therefore, we have to analyse it in pieces."

Harry was silent as he gave her his undivided attention.

" _The one with the power to restore balance has been chosen ... the one who has already fulfilled the terms of a prophecy, the one marked by the Dark Lord as his equal._ The first part of the prophecy itself points to you. Remember, this is Sybill Trelawney, the same Seer who recited the previous prophecy that tied you and Lord Voldemort in destiny. You fulfilled the terms of her previous prophecy by defeating the Dark Lord. Also, as the prophecy stated, you were marked as his equal when he attacked you in 1991. With me so far?"

Harry nodded.

 _"_ _He shall emerge at a time when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon._ This is more difficult to understand because anyone else would tell you that we are currently in a time of peace. Unfortunately, that is not true. In the magical world, yes, we don't really have another dark witch or wizard who wants to take over the government. Unfortunately, as you very well know, the Muggle world is very unstable at the moment. Should they start a war among themselves, it could be catastrophic. Even with former Minister of Magic Archer Evermonde's efforts to prevent wizards from getting involved, magical involvement did take place during the First World War. A small mistake then could have cost us the Statute of Secrecy. Unlike most wizards, I do study the developments Muggles have come up with. Should they start another world war, wizarding exposure is imminent. Their communication devices are a dangerous enemy."

"And exposure would lead to war," sighed Harry. "It'll be so easy for them to blame all their problems on us 'evil' wizards."

"Precisely," said Luna. _"The ones cursed by Magic have begun their path to chaos ... the balance shall be broken, the secret ousted, and a holy war shall end it all._ This is the part that confuses me. It is obviously referring to Muggles because there is no other secret it could refer to, at least from my point of view. But considering what I have seen in my vision, I'd like to believe that I am right. Cursed by Magic? I don't understand what that could mean. The balance refers to the relative peace between magical species and Muggles. For three hundred years now, the Statute of Secrecy has held. It has protected us from an all-out war. According to the prophecy, yes, the Statute will crumble."

Harry had a dark look on his face. "I don't see any war as 'holy', Luna."

The Seer smiled dreamily. "That's where you're wrong, Harry. War is terrible, yes, but it is something that can never be avoided. It's a part of nature. If you believe everything in the world can be resolved through peace, you're living in a fool's paradise. If everyone can get along perfectly, then society will be stagnant. Such a society can never exist. Peace is a goal, not always a means. Yes, destructive wars are bad for society. Many die, and I truly believe that war must be avoided at all costs. But sometimes, there is nothing you can do but fight your way out. If that's the will of Magic itself, who are we to question it? If we rebel, it'll only lead to our destruction, if not immediately, then at a future date. That's why we have Seers; that's why we have prophecies. It is to help us learn and adapt. You're an eagle Animagus, aren't you? Tell me, what do eagles do when there's a storm?"

"It flies above the clouds and avoids it."

"Yes. And you're trying to do the same by attempting complete separation. In theory, it can work. But what if it doesn't? What if separation alone isn't enough? The Statute of Secrecy has shaped our way of life for three centuries. People will panic without it. It's a fight for the survival of magic, the very fabric of what encompasses the universe itself. The Muggles, in their arrogance and ignorance, don't know that. It's a holy war."

 _"_ _Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that shall decide our fate._ I have met Perenelle Flamel. I know who the Elves are. My grandfather has personally met the Queen of the Elves. They are powerful allies, Harry. And as in any war, there are two factions. There can be more, no doubt, but if you look at it from a dragon's eye view, there are always only two sides and they will decide the fate of the planet."

Harry gently patted one of the Thestrals as he tried to process what Luna was telling him. He took deep breaths as he tried to calm down. The creature he was petting nuzzled his face. He smiled faintly.

Luna continued. _"The one chosen by Magic, touched by Death, flanked by tigress and wolf, will be forced to restore balance, but should he fail, Magic shall consume us all. The Saviour of Magic has been chosen ... chosen to fulfil his destiny ..._ you were marked by this prophecy. That means you were chosen by Mother Magic. Touched by death … I'm not sure what that means, but maybe it's referring to the fact that you are the only survivor of the _Avada Kedavra_ curse."

Harry didn't correct her, nor did he reveal his identity as the Master of Death.

"Even in my vision, I always saw Daphne and Dylan by your side," smiled Luna. "Their Animagus forms are public knowledge; you know what that means. And should you fail, there is always a price to pay. Magic is giving us an opportunity to take care of the threat ourselves. Should you fail, nature will do the rest. None of us then stands a chance."

Harry looked towards the sky. There was work to be done.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **One month later ...**_

 _ **Potter Castle**_

Astoria frowned as she looked at Harry's notes. "This … is going to be problematic."

Harry smiled wryly. "Does that mean I've lost your support, Lady Lestrange?"

The younger witch rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Of course not, Chief Warlock," she teased right back. "Unlike others, I would be willing to curse you to express my disapproval."

"I won't have a problem getting this bill passed in the Wizengamot, Tori."

"I know you won't," said Astoria. "But first clarify something for me. You intend to amend the Statute in the Wizengamot?"

Harry nodded.

Astoria chuckled. "It won't work."

"Why not?"

"First of all, the Wizengamot is the legislative body of Magical Britain. That means it is the regional government. The International Statute of Secrecy was enacted by the I.C.W., which is the supreme governing body. You can't amend a bill passed by the Confederation in any of the regional legislative bodies. It'll never be recognized, not to mention it could lead to serious legal problems for you and Lord Black in the future. As a lawyer and a fellow politician, I strongly advise against it. Instead, you might want to fight directly at the international level. Once the amendment is approved by the Confederation and is signed by the Supreme Mugwump, the various Ministries of Magic are obligated to enforce the law. That's how the system works."

Harry stroked his chin. "So the fight is with the I.C.W.," he said slowly.

"Yes," Astoria nodded. "You'll achieve nothing by bringing this matter before the Wizengamot. Magical Britain is just one country, Harry. It'll get you nowhere. On the other hand, should you table this before the International Confederation, you have a chance to implement it globally at the same time. It's more efficient."

"Understood," muttered Harry. "Get started on drafting the bill, Tori. I'll start lining up support so that the bill will meet little resistance."

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had changed drastically ever since London had been abandoned by the Ministry. Now situated in Godric's Hollow, the newly designed Hogwarts Express looked nothing like its predecessor. Sleek and shiny, the magical train reached Hogwarts in less than two hours. The train had not been scrapped, mainly due to the fact that it had been ingrained into the minds of students, becoming a tradition of reaching the school.

The nearly twelve-year-old Rigel Black stood on the platform, fidgeting slightly. He was already dressed in his new uniform, and so was his best friend, Jacen Greengrass. Both of them had to start school a year late due to having been born after the first of September, but they were very glad that they could attend Hogwarts together.

"Cheer up, mate," smiled Sirius, tapping his son's head lightly with a finger. "Hogwarts isn't as bad as you think. The number of pranks you can pull is limitless!"

Rigel couldn't help but laugh when his mother whacked his father upside the head.

"Hey!" exclaimed Sirius, rubbing the back of his head. "What was that for?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to him, Rigel. You're better off not being a prankster."

"Not true! How can the son of the mighty and handsome Sirius Black not be a prankster?"

"If you can handle the fact that James Potter's son isn't a Marauder, you can do the same for yours as well!"

Sirius huffed and pouted like a child. Rigel grinned as he hugged his father. "Don't worry, Dad," he whispered. "I'll be sure to drive McGonagall insane."

The Minister smiled as he kissed his son's forehead. "Just don't go overboard and try not to make enemies this soon," he said seriously.

"I won't," Rigel promised. He turned to his mother and couldn't help but tear up. His hair turned a dull shade of grey as he hugged her tightly.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Rigel," whispered Amelia. "Promise me that you'll be careful."

"I promise, Mum."

"And don't forget to call us every night. If there is an emergency –"

"– I shouldn't hesitate to call our bodyguards, yes, I know," said Rigel, rolling his eyes. He had been told this too many times to count, growing up.

"Most of all, study hard, make friends, and enjoy yourself, alright?" said Sirius. "Come on, say goodbye to your brothers. The train is to leave soon."

Rigel quickly made his way to his older brothers. Harry and Dylan had amused expressions on their faces.

"Look at you, Rainbow, all grown up!" teased Dylan. "Think about it. You can change your hair colour to whichever House you will be sorted into."

Thinking about the sorting made Rigel's stomach perform backflips. Sensing this, Harry gently squeezed his youngest brother's shoulder. "What is it, kiddo?"

Swallowing, Rigel looked into the green eyes of his greatest hero. "Harry, do you think Mum and Dad will be disappointed in me if I'm sorted into Slytherin?" he whispered.

"Never," Harry assured him. "They'll always be proud of you, Rigel. The Sorting Hat places you in whichever House it fees you'll be the most comfortable in. It sorts you based on your personality. Both my parents were Gryffindors, and I ended up in Ravenclaw. Dylan's father was a Slytherin, and his mother a Hufflepuff. He was a Ravenclaw. Dad was in Gryffindor, and Mum in Hufflepuff. There's nothing wrong with you being in Slytherin. No one will think any the less of you. Rigel, it's just a House. It's not a life or death situation. You're going to be in Hogwarts for seven years and the world isn't going to end when you leave. Who in Merlin's name will even think about which House you were sorted into once you graduate? I'll tell you – _no one!_ Nobody cares about something as insignificant as this. You have no one to judge you, Rigel. Relax."

"I know going to Hogwarts can be scary," said Dylan, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "But all your classmates are scared too, Rainbow. You aren't the only one. They're all nervous. You at least have Jacen with you! Just be yourself, alright?"

Rigel smiled and hugged Harry and Dylan tightly. "I'll call you both later tonight," he assured. "Bye!"

Hugging his parents once more, Rigel got on board the train. Just a minute later, the train rose several inches from the ground, hovering in mid-air. And with one massive movement, it disappeared from view, on its way to Hogwarts.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _Pandemonium._

That seemed to be the best word to describe any legislative body when it was filled with angry politicians. The International Confederation of Wizards was no different.

"This is an outrage! How could you even suggest something like this?"

Harry Potter was stoic as he sat in his ornate chair, observing everyone carefully. Some of them were spitting mad, others were looking at him critically, while a few others were confused as to why he would propose such a bill in the first place. Half the members were discussing softly, having already been briefed about the bill beforehand. They were not surprised.

There was chaos all around as the Supreme Mugwump tried to restore order.

"Members of the Confederation, _please!_ "

"How dare you submit such a disgusting bill, Mr Potter?"

"We are not kidnappers!"

"I knew he was a bigot!"

"So much for his title of Grand Sorcerer … he's too young to understand the magnitude of such actions."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure Mr Potter has a reasonable explanation for why he would like to turn the I.C.W. into a kidnapping camp," said Ivan Krum, glaring at Harry. " _Well?_ Do you have anything to say, Mr Potter?"

"I do have a lot to say, Your Excellency," Harry nodded. His voice was soft, but it echoed throughout the room due to the _Sonorus_ charm. "Members of the Confederation, today, you stand here and accuse me of being a bigot. You say that I'm still too young to understand the magnitude of such actions. That I don't deserve the title of Grand Sorcerer for my academic achievements … but tell me, until I barged in on your meeting that took place in London six years ago, you were all culpable of homicide. Each one of you watched as Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum said that he would kill all those poor children who had turned into Obscurials. A little girl died that day. Have you forgotten?"

Deathly silence and dread crept into the room. It was suddenly cold, _very_ cold, as Harry's magic lashed out.

"I'm not a heartless person. I have children too and I love them more than anything in the world. My wife and I would be devastated should something happen to them. Every other parent would feel the same about their children. The amendment I'm proposing is harsh. That is a fact. But it is also necessary."

Before Krum could dismiss Harry's claims, one of the members asked, "How so?"

Harry took a deep breath. "When the International Statute of Secrecy was enacted, most of the countries separated from the Muggle world completely. In Europe, due to the inter-marriage between wizards and Muggles, complete secrecy was not possible. That led to a separation that was not complete, which led to chaos. However, it also brought about a universal problem – Muggle-borns."

"Why?" sneered Krum. "Do you believe they are inferior?"

"Of course not," Harry frowned. "I'm the proud son of a Muggle-born. I fought for their rights during the Voldemort war, and my adopted father has done his utmost best to increase their standard of living in Avalon. But that's not enough! At the end of the day, Muggle-borns are the ones who suffer the most, beat at the hands of wizards or Muggles."

A three-dimensional image floated before them all. The members gasped in outrage. "This is the type of environment Muggle-born orphans had to grow up in," Harry continued. "The Magical Orphans Act was passed by our legislative body only for the sake of protecting such children. Members of the Confederation, please open your eyes! Complete separation from the Muggle world is beneficial for us all – but did anyone think about Muggle-borns?"

"We have never faced that problem in our country, Mr Potter," said the member from Japan. "Muggle-borns are born only due to wizards intermarrying with Muggles. It is a fact that two Muggles cannot create a magical child. You know this. Witches and wizards in most countries don't interact with Muggles at all. Where then does the concept of Muggle-borns come into play? The amendment you are proposing would not make sense anywhere outside Magical Europe."

"You're right, Madam Sato, but this amendment does not limit itself to Magical Europe alone. Many of you failed to consider the possibility that such marriages could have occurred centuries ago, before complete separation. My mother, Lily Potter, was the descendant of Lord Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts School. Her ancestors, way back in the thirteenth century, lost their magic in a tragic accident. For eight hundred years, no one in their family has ever been magical … until my mother was born in 1965. It is a myth that Muggle-borns are born only if there is a close magical relative. The DNA of magical humans can activate any time in such children as long as they had wizarding ancestors. They have not been identified, not been trained, and have been left to live among Muggles. This has been the case for more than three hundred years. How many witches and wizards died due to this oversight?"

Many of them looked horrified as they began whispering heatedly.

"Be that may, there is a chance that such children grew up happily, Mr Potter," Krum said coldly. "It still does not condone _kidnapping_. This is the most barbaric idea I have come across to date!"

"The Statute of Secrecy was also called excessive and imprudent when it was enacted, Your Excellency," replied Harry stiffly. His eyes were jet black as he turned towards Krum. "You will not understand the pain such children experience, what they go through every time they have an incident of accidental magic. They don't understand because they were not raised in the magical world. Many of them are sent to asylums for being 'abnormal'. Others are deemed 'cursed'. Children are subjected to torture when others brand them possessed. A few unfortunate ones turn into Obscurials and remember that it was only recently, during the last attack, that a cure for that dreaded disease was discovered. Before that, being infected by an Obscurus meant death. You have _no idea_ how it is to be raised by magic-hating Muggles!"

"Not all of them hate magic!" spat Krum. "Just because you suffered doesn't mean everyone else shares the same fate, Mr Potter!"

"Big words coming from a man who was willing to slaughter innocent children who suffered at the hands of Muggles, claiming they had to pay for their crimes. Obscurials don't appear out of thin air, Your Excellency. They were created by magic-hating Muggles who torture witches and wizards. There is a reason we went into hiding in the first place, have you forgotten that?"

"That does not mean we can kidnap Muggle-born children from their parents! I will never allow it!"

"Does that mean the suffering of all those children count for _nothing?_ " spat Harry. "Are we just going to ignore the plight of defenceless children and sit in our cradle of power? Your arrogance _disgusts_ me!"

"Mr Potter, watch your tongue!" thundered Krum. "I shall not be lectured by you! I am the Supreme Mugwump. You will show me some respect!"

"I have not disrespected you, Your Excellency," Harry said calmly. "But the fact that you aren't even willing to think about the plight and living conditions of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of unidentified Muggle-borns all over the world makes me question your ability to lead us!"

"Perhaps we should hear him out, Your Excellency," said the member from Peru. "Continue, Mr Potter."

Harry bowed to the wizard, thanking him silently. "My problem, ladies and gentlemen, is the way so many magical children are suffering at the hands of illiterate, illogical, fanatical Muggles. A magical child does not belong outside the magical world! How do you expect Muggles to understand how to raise a magical child and deal with their cases of accidental magic? Levitating books, shattering windows, child Apparition, Legilimency, Metamorphmagus abilities, banishing charms … children are capable of all this! And no Muggle can understand or deal with it! Look at the statistics! Do you know how many Muggle-borns are abandoned in orphanages? Do you know how many others are abandoned on the _streets?_ Or worse, KILLED? We are the members of the International Confederation of Wizards, the supreme governing body of the magical world. It is our _duty_ to protect our citizens! I've said it before and I'll say it again. We are here for the _magical_ population, _not_ for Muggles! When witches and wizards are in distress, it is our sworn duty to act!"

Harry continued. "I know that it is horrible to take a child away from its mother. I agree, once again, that it is harsh; very harsh. But we can make it up to them. Blood-adoption is very much possible. The system has been a huge success in Avalon. A Muggle orphan can be replaced with such Muggle-born children. The memories of the child's relatives and all their government records and whatnot can be modified so that they will believe the new, adopted child is their own. It's a win-win scenario. Muggle-borns will be part of the magical world from the very beginning. Blood-purity will cease to exist. We can enforce _complete_ secrecy! Throughout the world! Muggle orphans will benefit from this. We are providing them with loving parents and a home. How is this barbaric? For the greater good of the society at large, this amendment is _necessary._ "

"Greater good?" hissed Krum.

Harry shook his head. "The phrase is universal, Your Excellency. I did not mean to quote Albus Dumbledore, but I stand by what I said."

"Don't you mean Gellert Grindelwald?" yelled Krum furiously. "Don't think for a second that I believe the lies that Rita Skeeter wrote about my former Master. Albus Dumbledore was and shall always be one of the greatest wizards the world has ever seen. No one can tarnish his name and deeds, mark my words!"

The Boy-Who-Lived ignored him. Instead, he signalled his allies. It was time.

Blaise Zabini and Parvati Patil, both of whom were representing their respective countries in the Confederation, nodded discreetly.

"Let us now vote on the amendment proposed to the International Statute of Secrecy of 1692, put forward by Mr Harry James Potter of Avalon," said Blaise. "All those in favour of the amendment?"

Harry held his breath as wands were drawn. He too raised his wand, the tip glowing brightly. Parvati and Blaise raised their lit wands too.

"All those in favour of rejecting the amendment?" announced Parvati.

Krum immediately raised his lit wand. So did thirty others. The Supreme Mugwump's eyes burned with anger as he was forced to say the dreaded words.

"A special majority has been achieved," he said through gritted teeth. _Special_ , meaning more than three-quarters of the members had voted in favour. It would be nearly impossible to repeal the amendment should Krum desire to do so in the future.

A copy of the amended bill immediately appeared before him in a flash of light. Suppressing his rage, Krum signed it. The sheet of parchment glowed brightly, signifying that it had become official. Every magical government in the world would now have to enforce it.

"This session hereby comes to a close," Krum said as he got to his feet. He quickly made his way to the exit, but not before throwing a filthy look at Harry Potter who stood in front of him.

"Albus Dumbledore would have been disgusted by what has happened here today," Krum spat.

Harry smiled coldly. "Albus Dumbledore," he said softly, "was a great wizard. I don't dispute that. Your affection for your late Master is blinding you to who he really was. His policy was always to sacrifice a few to save many. While I don't agree with his methods and would not follow them, I can't deny that they were efficient. Had he been in my place, he would be doing the very same thing. Unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore was also a fool who believed he was capable of handling and solving any problem alone. I assure you, had he been alive, his interference would have destroyed the world. Learn from your late mentor and don't repeat his mistakes, or you may soon join him."

"Is that a threat?"

Harry's face remained perfectly expressionless. He bowed slightly in respect and said, "Your Excellency," before walking out of the chamber, leaving the Supreme Mugwump seething.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

Hermione Granger was sitting in the living room of her apartment in Godric's Hollow, slowing sipping her morning tea. She sighed in contentment. Earl Grey … just the way she liked it. Too bad the blend didn't exist in the magical world. The wizards really didn't know what they were missing. Just when she wondered why the _Magical Daily_ hadn't arrived yet, a barn owl flew into the house from the open window. Dropping off its load, the owl flew away at once.

Flicking her wand, Hermione charmed the newspaper to levitate itself while she sat comfortably. Just as she took another sip of her tea, she spat the liquid all over the paper when her eyes caught the headlines.

 _INTERNATIONAL STATUTE OF SECRECY AMENDED!_

 _Proposal to amend the Statute was passed by the International_ _Confederation of Wizards after attaining a special majority_

 _Amendment revealed to be the brainchild of Chief Warlock Harry Potter_

 _Unidentified Muggle-borns living in Muggle areas all over the planet to soon be rescued and brought to stable homes in the magical world_

 _SUPREME MUGWUMP IVAN KRUM FACES CRITICISM FOR HIS LACK OF EMPATHY TOWARDS ABUSED CHILDREN_

 _"_ _I welcome this move. It may sound harsh, but this change was necessary," says famed entrepreneur, Serena Miller. "This amendment will help wizards as well as Muggles. I applaud Lord Potter for his dedication to helping abused magical children."_

 _"_ _Only now are we fully enforcing the Statute," says Blaise Zabini of Magical Italy, a member of the International Confederation. "This amendment should have been part of the original draft more than three hundred years ago!"_

 _Harry and Daphne Potter donate 5 million Galleons for the betterment of all rescued Muggle-borns_

 _HARRY POTTER – THE NEW WORLD LEADER?_

 _Pandora's Hospital for the Care of Magical Creatures_

 _Now open in Hogsmeade!_

 _Weddings, weddings, marriages all over! Celebrity Quidditch players get bonded!_

 _Holyhead Harpies Chaser Ginny Weasley marries_ _long-time boyfriend Dean Thomas!_

 _Heartthrob Cedric Diggory, Seeker of the Avalon National Quidditch Team,_ _marries Chinese Quidditch player Cho Chang!_

 _Oliver Wood, Captain and Keeper of the Avalon National Quidditch Team married to boyfriend and Senior Quidditch Reporter for the Magical Daily, Adrian Pucey!_

 _Star Montrose Chasers Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet_ _get married to twin pranksters Fred and George Weasley!_

 _RUSH TO YOUR NEAREST BRANCH OF_ _WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEEZES_ _TO RECEIVE AMAZING OFFERS FOR COUPLES!_

Hermione ignored the rest of the news. Her hands were shaking as her emotions got the best of her. Furious tears stung her eyes as she read every word of the article that described the amendment to the Statute.

 _"_ _HARRY JAMES POTTER!"_

Percy Weasley, who was sleeping soundly in their bedroom, was suddenly woken up by his girlfriend's screeching voice. He groaned. Unfortunately, this was not something he was unfamiliar with. His mother, Molly Weasley, had the same shrill voice too, and he and his siblings had all endured it growing up.

Yawning, he quickly made his way to the living room. "What is it, Hermione?" he asked sleepily.

"L-Look at this!" Hermione spluttered, too angry to form coherent words. "I can't believe how – how – _how_ can they accept this? Why are people still supporting him after this madness?"

Percy frowned as he summoned the newspaper to his hand. His eyes widened as he read the headlines. Sitting down on the sofa, he started reading the article. For ten minutes, Hermione was left seething in silence. Finally, her boyfriend put down the newspaper.

"I admit it sounds harsh," Percy said slowly, "but maybe there is some truth to what they're saying, Hermione."

"Truth? _Truth?_ Percy, he's doing this for his own selfish agenda!" cried Hermione. "Not all Muggle-borns are treated badly. Just because he and Lestrange faced problems doesn't mean we all did! My parents – _my_ parents loved me!"

"Shh, it's okay," soothed Percy, hugging her tightly.

"This law will not hold for long," Hermione said forcefully. "People will rebel, and when they do, Potter will have no choice but to take it down."

Percy paused. "Hermione, I don't think that's going to happen."

"And why not?"

"Because this may be Potter's brainchild, but most of the members of the Confederation voted for this. It was passed after attaining a special majority! That means many of them did think it was a good idea."

"That's only because Potter has blackmailed them!" Hermione said hotly.

"All of them?" Percy asked sceptically, his tone turning bossy. "Look, I understand why you're upset. Frankly, I don't like the concept of this amendment either. Let's think rationally. There are three hundred members in the I.C.W., half a dozen members in each group representing fifty different countries, which means _every_ magical government in the world was involved in this. How do you suppose Potter threatened and blackmailed them into supporting this amendment?"

Hermione paused but her anger was making it difficult for her to think rationally.

"I'll contact the Supreme Mugwump as soon as we go to the Ministry," Percy assured her. "He'll surely know what to do."

"You do that," snarled Hermione as she got up, heading towards the bathroom in order to get ready for the day. "In the meantime, I'll give Potter a piece of my mind and tell him exactly what I think of him!"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _"_ _Welcome to Camelot. The Ministry of Magic of Avalon wishes you a good day."_

Hermione Granger grumbled under her breath as she stepped out of the Floo. Unlike the previous headquarters of the British Ministry, the new building in the capital proved to everyone that this was no government that operated underground. The city of Camelot was beautifully designed, with tall buildings, floating banners and greenery everywhere. To the naked eye, it was practically the opposite of a Muggle city, and Hermione hated it. The ban on flying vehicles had been lifted, and she could see many such luxuriously enchanted objects in the air. These systems of public transport were shaped like a very sleek and advanced car – and it was Hermione's only way of comparing this to a Muggle vehicle – but from what she had seen, the inside was way bigger than any Muggle transport she had stepped into. There were also people on broomsticks and carpets. The wide roads were littered with people and enchanted devices here and there.

The city of Camelot was divided into three sectors – the Ministerial sector, the commercial sector, and the residential sector.

Large trees and picturesque gardens dominated the layout of the Ministerial sector, which was built in the very middle of Camelot. The Ministry building itself was large and – strangely enough – shaped like a spiral, though people generally ignored that due to how magnificently designed it was. Members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol were stationed at different entry and exit points, monitoring incoming and outgoing activity. Recording crystals danced in the air, providing further security to the heart of Avalon.

Beyond the Ministerial sector were the commercial establishments. Many of the shops in Diagon Alley had been shifted here. But the eye-catching building was most definitely Gringotts, the marble structure still quite familiar to everyone. Ollivander's, Madam Malkin's, Twilfit and Tattings, Flourish and Blotts, Eeylops Owl Emporium, the headquarters of the _Magical Daily_ , and even the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, had all shifted their businesses here. The Leakey Cauldron, however, was located in Godric's Hollow.

The old Diagon Alley, like the old underground Ministry complex, had been magically destroyed a couple of years ago. It ceased to exist.

The residential sector formed the outer perimeter of the city, surrounding inner Camelot completely with the homes of its citizens. The citizens of Britain – Hermione wouldn't ever call it Avalon – had taken the opportunity to construct their homes as they wished. They were all marvels of magical architecture, all in different shapes and colours. Some were even upside down.

Hermione grimaced. She didn't really like such designs. It only irritated her, proving that wizards had no logic. Really, those designs were ridiculous! Who in their right mind would build half their house upside down?

As she walked down the familiar path, Hermione once more looked at the towering statues that were erected here. The first was of King Arthur and his wife, Queen Guinevere, smiling softly at them. The king's famed sword was held in his right hand while he held the queen's with his left. Four other statues dominated the layout of the gardens as well; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin – the four founders of Hogwarts. From her position, Hermione could also see the massive temple that had been constructed a few hundred metres away from the Ministry complex. It was dedicated to Lord Myrddin Emrys, also known as Merlin, the most celebrated sorcerer in the history of Avalon.

After passing through the security checkpoints, Hermione quickly made her way inside the building. This was where the stark contract was seen. While the old Ministry was dark and gloomy, this was bright and airy, with cream and gold coloured walls and polished granite flooring. A thin band of blue light was visible on the ceiling in all directions. This light would turn red should anyone call a red alert. A beautiful fountain was placed in the lobby, with independent sculptures of a witch, wizard, goblin, Veela, centaur, house-elf, merperson, dragon, phoenix, unicorn and Nundu.

But no Muggle.

The phrase _'Magic is Might'_ kept revolving around the fountain. Like the previous Fountain of Magical Brethren, any gold donated here would be used for charity. St Mungo's Hospital had been shifted to Godric's Hollow. A bigger, more specialised hospital named _Morgana's Hospital for Magical Care_ was now the leading hospital in Camelot.

Beyond the fountain were two _gigantic_ banners. One of them was of the Minister of Magic, Sirius Black. The other was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Harry Potter.

Growling, Hermione stomped her way to the lifts. The golden grills opened, letting her inside. The lifts were thought-based. You had to think which floor you wanted to get down in, and the charmed lift would do the rest.

" _Level One, Offices of the Minister of Magic, Chief Warlock, and support staff."_

The corridor was decorated with rich wood and purple draping. Ignoring the opulent environment, she proceeded to the reception outside the office of the Chief Warlock.

"Is he here?" snapped Hermione. The poor receptionist stuttered, unused to being shouted at by anybody. Ignoring the witch's feeble attempts to stop her, the deputy head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation flicked her wand at the door.

The door to the Chief Warlock's office opened with a _bang_. Harry Potter raised his eyebrows in surprise when Hermione Granger walked in. He was not alone. He was entertaining the global head of the Department of Mysteries, Algernon Croaker, and his apprentice, Unspeakable Padma Patil.

Hermione froze when she saw Croaker. She gulped slightly as realization dawned on her as to who exactly was in the room.

"Miss Granger," said Croaker in a clipped voice. "May I ask what you are doing, barging into this room like this? Without being announced by Lord Potter's secretary?"

"I – I wanted to speak to the Chief Warlock, sir. It's about today's news."

"Be that may, you could have waited for a moment and informed his secretary of your presence. We were in the middle of an important meeting. I'm a very busy man, Miss Granger, so if you'd be kind enough to leave, I'd appreciate it."

That was essentially his way of telling her to get out. She swallowed. Hermione was not afraid of Harry Potter, but she most definitely did not want the ire of the global Head Unspeakable directed at her.

"Yes sir," Hermione said quickly. Flushing with embarrassment, she shut the door and took deep breaths. She could feel various protective enchantments taking effect as she was bodily pushed back.

Ten minutes later, she was in her office. What could she do? From what Percy had told her, the Supreme Mugwump was just as stumped as she was. The amendment had been made into a law. There was no going back. How could she stop such a vile thing from taking place?

Was everyone in the wizarding world so small-minded that they couldn't see what was right in front of them?

Hermione paused as an idea occurred to her. Most of the people in the magical world weren't willing to listen to her. If Ivan Krum himself couldn't stop the bill, that meant Harry Potter's hold on them all was greater than they had anticipated. But that didn't mean she had to rely only on wizards to help her. This was about Muggle-borns. Muggle-borns, in her opinion, also belonged to the Muggle world. She certainly believed herself to still be a citizen of the United Kingdom. Therefore, it would stand to reason that the government of the U.K. had vested interest in this law as well.

But Hermione also knew that informing a Muggle about magic went against the law. In fact, according to the amendment, wizard-Muggle interaction was strictly banned, taken directly from Rappaport's Law implemented by MACUSA. However, there was a loophole.

The amendment said nothing about Muggles who already knew about the existence of magic.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **10 Downing Street, London**_

The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom returned to his office after a meeting with his cabinet ministers. It had been a rough day, and he was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. His eyes narrowed once more as he caught sight of that infernal painting on the wall behind the fireplace. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get rid of it.

 _Damn those blasted wizards!_

It was bad enough that he had to deal with extremist terrorist groups that were doing their best to disrupt peaceful life in London, but he had to deal with this too? How could his predecessors have kept such a secret from the rest of the world? But the Prime Minister knew that should he also reveal the existence of wizards to his people, they would call him insane and kick him out of office.

But unlike his predecessors, he had still not kept the information to himself.

For the first time, the Prime Minister was not the only one in the government who know of the existence of magic. The Secretary of State for Defence was briefed about the nature of the wizarding world – or rather the threat the wizarding world posed. A few others in his cabinet had also been briefed about the nature of the threat. Only after Sirius Black had informed him about their secret – _cult_ – did he realise where so many of their country's problems originated from.

His predecessor, after much persuasion, had told him about a war … a war that had taken place in their own country without their knowledge! A war between two wizarding factions with people like him caught in the middle!

That was not all.

There was a Ministry of Magic, an independent government that existed right under their noses, unknown and unaccountable to them. The arrogance of these wizards infuriated the Prime Minister! He was determined to get them under the rule of the parliament, and when he gave his ultimatum, Sirius Black had laughed – _laughed_ – in his face!

The Prime Minister's nostrils flared as he swallowed his pills. His blood pressure levels had increased significantly ever since he had been elected. Taking a few deep breaths, he moved his attention to the mountain of paperwork that lay in front of him.

Just five minutes later, the door to his office opened, and his secretary poked his head inside.

"Sir, can you please come down to the Cabinet Room?" he asked hesitantly.

"Why?" frowned the Prime Minister. "I just met the ministers. I'm done for the day, Jeremy, tell them to –"

"No sir, it's not them. There's someone else here to meet you. She's one of _them_."

The secretary cast a fearful look at the stationery portrait of an old man. The Prime Minister's expression cleared as he understood immediately. Throwing another filthy look at the magical painting, he briskly walked out of his office.

"Who is it?" demanded the Prime Minister. "It can't be Black. He uses the fireplace. How did this person enter the building?"

"She just showed up, sir. The woman immediately demanded that she speak with you. I tried to call security but she used that – _stick_ – to silence me. I had no choice but to comply with her demands."

The Prime Minister's temper flared as he entered the Cabinet Room. A young woman was seated, looking nervous. She had bushy brown hair and was carrying a backpack. When he entered, she immediately stood up in respect.

"Who are you, and how did you enter this building?" asked the Prime Minister without preamble. He tried to be careful. After all, this woman was an abnormal, unnatural freak, much like Sirius Black. The security personnel had their assault rifles in hand, ready to strike.

"Prime Minister, I'm Hermione Granger, an employee of the Ministry of Magic. I apologise for my unauthorised visit, but I'm here to warn you of a nefarious plot against the people of the United Kingdom."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Go on," he said, sitting down, giving her his undivided attention.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN:_ _My thanks to Teufel1987 for giving me permission to incorporate his idea of the 'Magical Child Protection Act' in 'Rise of the Wizards' and use it in this story as the amendment to the International Statute of Secrecy._**

 ** _Ever since I watched 'Fantastic Beasts' and read about Rappaport's Law, I couldn't help but wonder about the plight of Muggleborns and their place in the magical society of the United States. Maybe it'll be explained later, but for now, my take on it is that it is ignored, mainly because they believe Muggleborns don't exist in their country. And since in this story, every other country other than those in Europe is closed off like the U.S., Muggleborns are ignored. Harry is trying to correct that. His idea isn't the best and is certainly distasteful, but this is all he can do at the moment while the threat of war is 'looming over the horizon'._**

 ** _You may also say that I'm choosing to make Muggles look bad without giving them a chance. For that, my reply to you is to please wait and watch. I assure you that I will do my best to give explanations for every plot to the best of my ability._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	52. Change in Leadership

_**Chapter 52**_

 _ **Change in Leadership**_

 _ **Three years later ...**_

 _ **September 2018**_

 _ **Potter Castle**_

"Dobby!"

The house-elf immediately _popped_ in front of his master and beamed, "Master Harry is calling Dobby? What can Dobby for the great Harry Potter?"

A hint of a fond smile formed on Harry's face. He was sitting in his favourite armchair by the floor-to-ceiling windows in his study, going through the list he had prepared of people he suspected might be collaborating with the Muggles.

"Did you trail Hermione Granger?"

"Yes, Master," Dobby nodded fervently, his ears flapping in excitement. "Dobby did exactly as Master instructed him to do. Dobby followed Miss Grangye everywhere for two weeks."

"And?" he pressed.

"Miss Grangye is not interacting with Muggles, Master," answered the house-elf. "Sometimes she goes to the Muggle world to buy things, but she didn't meet anyone. She is simply staying at home, and Dobby's scans showed that she was always surrounded by books."

Harry exhaled in frustration as he struck off another name from his list. "So she's doing nothing suspicious?" he inquired again.

"No, Master. Miss Grangye mostly stays at home the whole day. Dobby is not sure what she does at home. There are wards that prevent house-elves from directly entering, but Dobby was able to see that the book-witch was mostly reading or writing or casting spells."

Harry bit his lip in contemplation. "You did a good job, Dobby. Thank you. That is all."

Dobby beamed at him and Disapparated with a _crack_.

"I told you," said Daphne. "It was only a matter of time before Granger resigned from her job. I always wondered why she didn't pursue higher education and instead joined the Ministry immediately after graduating from Hogwarts."

"It was probably due to lack of money," shrugged Harry. "Not everyone receives a scholarship to go to a university and without her parents for financial support, what else would she do?"

"Yeah," Daphne agreed quietly. "You know, now that I'm older and calmer, I feel like I should have handled the situation in our fifth year better. Maybe that Confundus Charm was unnecessary. Just making them shut up would have been enough."

"You were a fifteen-year-old girl," Harry pointed out. "The fact that you enchanted that book was quite a feat in itself. We never asked her to complain to McGonagall, Daph. She being a tattletale was what caused the problem in the first place."

"Well, she was a young girl too. I can't fault her for blaming us – _me_ – for what happened. At the time, I wasn't mature enough to realise it, but should the situation be reversed, I would be pretty mad too. Yes, Granger was at fault, but it wasn't like I was innocent either."

Harry shook his head. He still believed that what Daphne had done then was right. Severus Snape had been a real problem during the Voldemort war, and her Confundus Charm had managed to keep the secret of the Defence Association from getting out and managed to get rid of Snape at the same time. If Granger had a problem with his teaching methods, she could have simply stopped attending his classes. She had no right to stop others from learning.

"Anyway, Granger now pursuing higher education is not something surprising," she shrugged. "Yes, she was a high-ranking employee, but maybe she just wants to study more?"

"Do you really think Granger, of all people, would be fine with the amendment?" Harry asked darkly. "Daph, we have a breach. Information about the magical world is trickling its way into the Muggle internet. It's getting very hard for us to erase such information. Anti-wizard sentiments haven't been this high in a century!"

"Yes, it is most definitely a problem, but none your suspects are in a position of power that could help the Muggles. Maybe it's Krum."

"Even if Krum is involved, I wouldn't know. The protection offered to the Supreme Mugwump and the heads of all the magical governments is very advanced. Spying on him is nearly impossible."

"Why not simply crash the Muggles' network and destroy information about magic?" asked Daphne. "That's what Obliviators have been doing for years!"

"It's becoming harder for them to do that. Just like we have tightened security, they have too. From what I've read from Muggle newspapers, their governments are very strict about securing their computers due to their own internal conflict. We're not used to such technology, Daph. _This_ is what I feared since I was a boy. Yet at the time, no one believed me."

Daphne bit her lip. "I don't have a solution to this – what was the word again?"

"Internet."

"Right. Well, I don't have a solution to this internet problem, but I do have an idea to take care of Krum."

Harry leaned forward with interest. "I'm listening."

"Witches and wizards have always been attracted to strong voices, or should I say, powerful people who can reach out to them and solve their problems. For ten years now, we have been interacting with the common people around the world. Harry, you have done a lot for them even when you weren't obligated to. People _know_ that. You have earned the respect of many. Over the years, our political capital has also increased after gaining a firm hold on various politicians. Use the opportunity presented to go for the kill."

"This soon?"

"Harry, once you achieve this, we can stop the war before it can even begin to take shape," Daphne explained. "I know what Luna Lovegood said, but I'm still not convinced that there is no way to prevent war. If there are no information leaks, then why would there be a war at all? We have achieved complete secrecy and with Muggles not knowing about the existence of magic, there will be no conflict between our two worlds."

"But for those information leaks to be stopped, the next stage of our plan must take effect," muttered Harry. He stroked his chin in contemplation.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Caral-Supe, capital of the magical province of Peru**_

Twenty-eight-year-old Harry Potter, a member of the International Confederation of Wizards representing Avalon, sat in his seat amidst the chaos and observed the scene in silence.

Since the I.C.W. did not have a separate building as headquarters, the place the delegates were required to meet shifted very frequently. No two consecutive meetings were held in the same city. It promoted unity among the people, but in Harry's opinion, it also took much longer to schedule a meeting in case of an emergency. A separate legislative complex was needed for the functioning of the I.C.W.

A hint of a smirk formed on his usually expressionless face. His green eyes locked on the agitated Supreme Mugwump.

 _'Learn to see in the dark, Your Excellency,'_ he thought in satisfaction. In three years, he had surrounded Ivan Krum in ways the man had yet to realise. Knowing that he would need their support, Harry had continued to interact with the common people, holding rallies globally in order to bring them all together for a common cause. In order to be a good and effective leader, he had to understand the mindset and needs of the magical community. It was also necessary to identify the flaws of their society so that steps could be taken to improve and grow. Harry knew that the magical world was not perfect. They had a host of problems but without sufficient sway in the government, he couldn't get anything done.

He had also increased bilateral talks with the Goblins, Veela, Centaurs, Vampires and several Elvin representatives. Meanwhile, he had gained strength in the political arena, slowly bringing Krum's allies to his side without the latter even knowing about it. While Harry's global influence had grown, both among government bureaucrats and among the wizarding populace, Krum's popularity had dwindled, mostly due to the fact that he wasn't willing to take the necessary steps to further safeguard the interests of the magical world.

Krum was unwilling to acknowledge that exposure was imminent. He also advocated more peace talks, going so far as to say that the I.C.W. needed to contact their Muggle counterpart, the United Nations, to help deal with the threat.

Harry mentally snorted. Krum had just set fire to his career. Not even Lord Zeus could save him now.

"Let me get this straight, Your Excellency," said Anthony Goldstein, a member representing MACUSA. "We are facing a global crisis because information about the existence of magic is flooding this – what was the term? Oh yes, the _internet_."

"It is not a crisis, Mr Goldstein!"

"Our Obliviators have been unable to purge all records of magical activity from their computers because as one expert said, there are just too many pathways and endpoints," said Su Li of Magical China. "A small but significant portion of their population believes that magic is real. It is only a matter of time before Muggle governments get involved. Yes, Your Excellency, it is most definitely a crisis."

"And your solution is to reveal the existence of magic to their international body?" asked Gabrielle Delacour of Magical France, incredulously.

"That goes against the very concept of maintaining secrecy," Parvati Patil of Magical India took over. "Right now, only a couple of people in the Muggle governments in Europe know about the existence of the magical world. I doubt they pose a threat because they're alone and no one would believe them should they say anything. However, should you contact the rest, how long do you think it'll take for them to reveal the information to their people?"

"Give them some credit!" screamed Krum, finally reaching the end of his tether. "They're the international governing body of the Muggle world. The reason most European Ministers of Magic used to inform the heads of their respective Muggle governments was so that they could implement the Statute better. By contacting the United Nations and seeking their help, we can control the information that is leaked to the Muggles!"

"Now," whispered Harry to the man sitting next to him.

"I do believe we disagree, Your Excellency," said Blaise Zabini in his usual calm voice. "I fear you have become emotionally compromised and lost track of reality. We are facing a crisis that hasn't been seen since Gellert Grindelwald was at the height of his powers. You fail to see that exposure is imminent, and should the existence of magic be revealed to the Muggles, it would not end well for any of us. You refuse to let us take action. I do not have any faith in you to lead the magical community. I suggest that new leadership is needed to help us during these troubled times. I hereby call for a vote of no confidence in Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum."

Krum's eyes bulged out of his sockets. This was something he had expected would happen, _but_ _not this soon._ His hands were shaking slightly due to fear and rage as beads of sweat formed on his brow. He didn't hear the noises of agreement in the background. Krum focussed only on the face of Harry Potter, the man who was most definitely behind all this.

Unfortunately, he could not identify anything from Potter's demeanour. The younger man was stoic as always.

He took a deep breath to calm himself; he couldn't appear to be ' _emotionally compromised'_. Potter had made a bold move, but it was foolish as well. Only if they reached a tally of sixty per cent could they boot him from office. And Krum was confident that Potter wouldn't achieve those required numbers, mostly because Krum still had a large support base himself.

As per the Charter of the International Confederation of Wizards, the Supreme Mugwump had to refrain from voting in this particular instance. Trying to keep his voice steady, Krum announced, "Let us now vote on the motion of no confidence raised by Mr Blaise Zabini of Magical Italy."

Unlike legislative votes, this was not public. A small glass plate appeared before each member. All of them pointed their wands at it, and there was a flash of white light before the glass disappeared. Everyone held their breath as they looked at the screen.

Krum collapsed in his seat, hyperventilating. How was this possible? He was so _sure_ that he had allies in the Confederation! He looked at the six Bulgarian representatives, his eyes burning with anger and betrayal.

"The motion passes _unanimously_ ," Madam Sato of Magical Japan announced. "Please step down from your seat, Mr Krum."

"Members of the Confederation," said Neville Longbottom, also part of the group of witches and wizards representing Avalon in the I.C.W. "In these troubled times, I suggest that we do not postpone the elections, but instead, choose to hold them immediately."

"I concur with Mr Longbottom's assessment," said Parvati.

"As per the by-laws of the Charter of the International Confederation of Wizards, I nominate Mr Harry Potter as the new Supreme Mugwump."

Krum was sitting silently, still unable to believe the injustice heaped upon him. His face resembled a tomato, his face writ with anger and fear. _The Dark Lord Harry Potter had won this round._

Harry stood up and bowed. "I humbly accept the nomination," he said, his voice reverberating throughout the chamber.

 _'This is an outrage!'_ thought Ivan Krum furiously. The election for the office of Supreme Mugwump was never this easily accepted. No other candidates were proposed, and the elections were held immediately. Only one other person in the history of the I.C.W. had managed to unite everyone in a manner such as this – his deceased Master, Albus Dumbledore.

And Krum hated comparing the likes of Harry Potter to someone as great as his mentor.

The vote was unanimous. Thunderous applause rent the air as Harry Potter, the newly elected leader of the International Confederation of Wizards, took his place on the highest pedestal, overlooking all the other members.

"Members of the Confederation, I am humbled by the confidence you have in me to lead the world through this crisis," said Harry, smiling at them all. "This great governing body was formed nearly fifteen hundred years ago, with many great witches and wizards in history leading it. I will not destroy the faith the people of the magical world have placed in me. I assure you, the magical world and all its citizens will be safe from the threat of Muggles."

Krum pursed his lips as everyone applauded.

" _Supreme_ is a title that has always been given to leaders of the I.C.W. I wonder if I'm worthy of it, but my grandfather always taught me growing up that age-old values and traditions are very important; they define our culture, our way of life, and hence I have to respect it. The suffix to this title has changed many times over the centuries. We've had Supreme Warlocks, Supreme Mages, Supreme Sorcerers, and of course, Supreme Mugwumps. The title of Mugwump was chosen by Albus Dumbledore to represent that he was always neutral in politics. Whether he truly was neutral is not for debate, however, in today's climate, neutrality is not what we desire. In keeping with the traditions of the I.C.W., I hereby change the name of the office of the Supreme Mugwump to that of the office of the Supreme Chancellor!"

 _'How you can bring yourself to insult the great wizard at every turn is beyond me, Harry Potter,'_ thought Krum darkly. _'But mark my words, Albus Dumbledore will be avenged. My parents, wife and child will be avenged for what the likes you did to them. You are no different than Grindelwald. I will ensure that you are taken care of soon enough!'_

Harry continued after the applause had died down. From the corner of his eye, he could see the recording crystal suspended in mid-air, transmitting everything to media outlets. Within an hour, everyone in the world would know about the change in leadership.

"The Peverell Clan has always believed that our traditions are very important. As a child who grew up in such a family, I too was raised in a similar fashion, with our culture and traditions seeped into my very blood. The members of my clan also believe that for any venture to be successful, one needs to seek the blessings of Mother Magic. It is for that reason that every Lord and Lady Peverell before me and my wife also had to swear an oath, saying that they would protect the family at all costs."

"All members of the magical world, comprising of Humans, Elves, Goblins, Veela, Merpeople, Centaurs, Vampires, Giants, Werewolves, Dragons, Phoenixes, Nundus, Thunderbirds, Unicorns, and every other species – are my family. And just as I swore to protect the members of the Peverell Clan, today, as your Supreme Chancellor, I, Harry James Potter, swear in the name of Mother Magic that I will always stay true to the needs of my people and will always follow the will of Magic, whatever it may be. I will do my duty and bring honour to my family, which all the people of the magical world are a part of. This is the solemn vow of a Peverell!"

A wave of magic from Harry's body lashed out, encompassing the entire chamber. Various members of the International Confederation gasped at the spectacle, but the others were stunned by the Supreme Chancellor's display. One of them applauded, starting a chain reaction as everyone got up to cheer and applaud for their chosen leader – one who swore an oath to the people of the magical world and considered each one of them his family.

Harry bowed to them, his green eyes suspiciously moist as his emotions got the best of him. Since he was the Master of Death, magical oaths such as the one he had just made would not affect him, but that didn't mean that he would break it. Harry was many things, but a liar, he was not. He was now the Supreme Chancellor of the International Confederation of Wizards. It was said that the office of the head of the I.C.W. was only powerful if it had the people backing it. Harry was confident that he could help the magical world, for there was still a lot to be done. Their society was far from perfect. For more than a decade he had worked hard for this moment. He was here for the protection and development of all the people of the magical world.

"From this moment onwards, there will no barriers between anyone in the magical world," Harry announced once the applause had died down. "We may all be different species, but we should not forget that we are interconnected by the primordial force in the universe – _magic_. Humans, Elves, Goblins, Veela, Centaurs, Dragons, Merpeople, and so many other sentient magical being are all _one_ – the children of Mother Magic. Our planet is the sacred home of all our species. It has given us the space to live and grow. It has nurtured us like a loving mother. Today, on this auspicious occasion, let us commemorate the energy that breathed life into us. Let us respect the fact that we are all one. We are all magical beings; we are all equals. A great man once said that the law applies equally to all. Let us go back to our roots and remember that the same law that binds the poorest, least educated magical being also binds the Supreme Chancellor to the same effect. From the eyes of the law, there will be no difference. Achieving this will be our goal!"

"Members of the magical world, as your chosen leader, it is my promise to you that if we all work together, we can create a near-perfect society that shall be celebrated for millennia. Ours will be a society without discrimination; a society where everyone gets the opportunity to pursue their interests; a society where the leaders shall work for the people, not for their own selfish interests; and finally, a society where magic _thrives_ , as it always should."

The entire room seemed to tremble due to the emotions invoked in the passionate speech of the Supreme Chancellor. Harry Potter seemed to be speaking from his heart, evident by the tears that seemed to have filled his eyes.

This was a man who loved every inch of the planet, whose very existence seemed to be based on serving his people; serving Mother Magic herself.

"Let us make our great ancestors proud," shouted Harry. "MAGIC IS MIGHT!"

The members of the Confederation seemed to be rejuvenated. Raising their right arms high in the air, their fists clenched, they cried, repeating the words of their leader, their devotion towards the sacred cosmic energy clear, "MAGIC IS MIGHT!"

"Magic is might!"

"Magic is might!"

In a corner of the room, former Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum kept staring at Harry.

 _He kept staring_.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **The Himalayan ranges, at the foothills of Mt Everest**_

"Group, begin attack!"

General Dylan Lestrange, the head of International Confederation's emergency task force, watched silently as his team practised once more. They were on the outskirts of the still-under-construction capital city of the I.C.W. Sounds of battle echoed everywhere, but Dylan was calm, standing on top of a small hill, observing them all.

On the ground were one thousand witches and wizards, handpicked by him three years ago. They were the elite, consisting of some of the best warriors in the world. Many of them were graduates of the Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic. For three years, Dylan had restlessly pushed them, taught them, and trained _with them_ as they prepared for war.

A war that would hopefully never come to pass.

There was a _crack_ of Apparition to his left, and he saw his brother and Croaker walking towards them. He immediately flew to his designated spot in front of his soldiers.

"Attention!" barked Dylan. The members of the task force immediately froze. There was a simultaneous _crack_ of Apparition, and in an instant, they were standing in a neat, organized manner, facing their military chief.

All of them, at the same time, brought their clenched fists and banged it on their chest and bowed, executing a full military salute. So did Dylan.

"Chancellor," he said formally. "Admiral Croaker. Welcome to our training program."

The moment Harry had been elected as the Supreme Chancellor, he had given his assent to many of the secret projects the Department of Mysteries had been doing illegally, just to keep Krum from finding out. The construction of _Sowilo City_ , the new capital of the I.C.W., had been on-going for over two years now. That was not the only change. To ensure that people knew of the hierarchy, Harry had introduced the system of military ranks. Due to his skill, knowledge and experience, not to mention was qualified for the job, Dylan Lestrange had been given the title of General. The Emergency Taskforce was officially disjoined from the Department of Mysteries. It was not yet an army, as Harry needed approval from the Confederation to recognise it as such, but that didn't mean they would train their people any less.

The title of Admiral, a rank equal to that of a General, was given to Algernon Croaker, the head of the Department of Mysteries. Harry felt it up to them to decide the lower ranks. From what he could gather, the succession in the department was quite complex, but one person was always chosen beforehand to lead them should the current head resign or die unexpectedly. The rank of Vice-Admiral had been given to Daphne, Croaker's choice for his successor.

Not that anyone planned to replace Croaker, but ranks had to be fleshed out.

Harry moved forward, inspecting the presentation of the task force. One thousand men and women stood at attention as they presented a unified front.

"Impressive, General," he finally said. Turning towards the assembled group, he spoke, "I've been observing you all for several hours. Your hard work has most certainly paid off. Good work, everyone."

Dylan bowed low in respect. Their numbers were still not large enough for war, but they didn't need to worry about that. Not yet. For now, Harry had instructed him to worry only about the training of these one thousand men and women.

And he had followed his leader's orders perfectly.

"Let's execute another drill," Dylan ordered. "Form up! Infantry units one and two, begin attack! Air units three and four, evasive pattern _Delta Five_. Attack pattern _Omega_. Fire at will!"

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **Sowilo City**_

 _ **Headquarters of the Department of Mysteries**_

Unspeakable Padma Patil checked her calculations once more. The runic array was perfect. She turned towards her former classmate and colleague, who was also now her best friend.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Daphne wearily. "Maybe we should check –"

"Daph, you've checked the enchantments three times. They're holding. The runic array is flawless. It's time to test it. Master, with your permission …"

Croaker nodded, excitement bubbling within him. This was a lot more interesting than watching Dylan's taskforce practice. He had brought Daphne here as a consultant. She specialised in other areas, mostly on the _Asthron_ and its sister devices, and while she didn't have much knowledge about time travel, her expertise in enchanting could not be denied.

Padma entered the room. The door sealed itself, the locking charms trapping her inside. Croaker waved his wand and tapped several devices, muttering under his breath. The computer to his left was _beeping_ constantly, the transparent glass screen glowing light blue as usual. Daphne kept her eye on the _Varasma_ sensors.

"Magical energy flow is stable," she announced. "Enchantments are in place."

"Acknowledged," muttered Croaker. "I'm activating the temporal runic array – now!"

They waited for nearly five minutes. Just when the last few seconds were ticking, the clock moving closer to five minutes, Daphne began counting.

"Five – four – thee –"

"The runes are activating again," said Croaker, holding his breath.

"– two – one – open the door."

With a flick of his wand, Croaker unlocked the door to the room where Padma had disappeared five minutes ago. Slowly, she walked out. She looked irritated.

"It works," said Padma without preamble. "I was in there for a month. Five minutes for you both, I suppose?"

"Yes," Croaker beamed. "Our calculations were perfect. We did it!"

Padma grumbled. "I'm dying for some good food after one month in that hell-hole. Damn, I'm a terrible cook!"

Daphne burst out laughing. Shaking her head, she followed her friend who kept complaining about how the isolation annoyed her. She was also pining for her family.

"My daughter is going to be so mad at me," she grimaced, "I don't know how my poor husband managed to handle her for a month!"

" _Ahem_ , Padma? It's only been five minutes, remember?"

The former Ravenclaw stopped walking, her eyes wide in shocked disbelief. She groaned.

"I'm going crazy. Where's my husband? I need sex!"

Daphne couldn't help it. She started laughing hysterically again. "How did you adjust without him for a month?"

Padma grinned sheepishly. "My finger?" she said weakly.

"Ah ha!"

"Oh, shut up, Daph! What would you do in my position?!"

Daphne grinned. "Oh, Padma … why use your finger when there is a charm specifically to help you? Just cast it on yourself and let the vibration do the rest!"

There was a pause. "You bitch. I hate you."

"Hey! I told you not to go in there alone! You were the one who said that reading relaxes you after a tiring day."

Padma covered her ears, refusing to hear any more excuses. Daphne chuckled.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

 _ **10 Downing Street, London**_

"You were thrown out?" exclaimed the Prime Minister. He was quite surprised. In the time he had known him, Ivan Krum had acted as though he held the strings in the wizarding world, and now, the man was telling him that he was no longer the leader?

"Yes," Krum exhaled. "Potter executed the deed masterfully. My own allies rebelled against me."

"I'm sorry," said the Prime Minister softly. As a fellow politician, he could understand the other man's pain. Rising to the top level was never easy. It took decades of work and for it all to fall to pieces in front of your eyes because of your most hated enemy, like the leader of the opposition, for example, could no doubt drive anyone into a fit of rage.

Three years had passed since the Prime Minister had met Hermione Granger. Just weeks after he had met the woman, he had been contacted by Ivan Krum, the person who claimed to be the leader of the magical equivalent of the United Nations. At first, the Prime Minister had dismissed Krum's existence entirely; after all, if the U.N. was anything to go by, the leader would only be a figurehead with no power. However, it turned out that the wizarding world did not function that way. The Supreme Mugwump – _what a strange title,_ _thought the Prime Minister_ – was, in fact, the leader of the global legislative body of the wizarding world with substantial powers.

When he had met Krum, the Prime Minister had been intrigued. The man claimed that Harry Potter, a person Granger had also warned him about, was in the process of claiming more power for himself and that he was also a complete authoritarian who went out of his way to harm non-magical beings. After a few meetings, where the Prime Minister had been stiff and aloof, he realised that Krum was actually a very intelligent man.

However, despite being warned about Potter's actions towards Muggle-borns – _oh, how he hated the word Muggle_ – he had still been unable to do anything about it. Only a few top brass members of the government knew about the existence of magic. He needed the lower levels to implement any change, which was not possible due to them not knowing about magic.

Unfortunately, the wizards were quite efficient. Even now, the Prime Minister didn't know which child was taken and replaced. It had been done masterfully. That had happened two and a half years ago. He had also come across a potential risk – wizards were able to gain access to information without them even knowing about it. He couldn't really care about any magical child Potter was taking away. As far as he was concerned, such freaks didn't deserve to be in their world, and the citizens of the U.K. were better off without them. However, due to the concerns of leaks in information, he had brought the Director-General of the Security Service into the fold. They had to ensure that their computer systems were not tampered with.

The Prime Minister was not an idiot. He knew that Krum wanted to stop Harry Potter by any means necessary. Even though Krum appeared to be nice, he had quickly gotten annoyed at the Prime Minister's lack of action towards the kidnapped Muggle-borns. But he had not broken off their partnership. And that's what it was – a partnership, with the Prime Minister wanting more information about the magical world and in return, would help Ivan Krum defeat Harry Potter.

However, the Prime Minister didn't mention to Krum that he had taken steps to reveal the existence of such a _cult_ to the rest of the world. He wouldn't be a sitting duck. Slowly but surely, more information about these freaks would make its way to everyone through the internet.

No, Krum and Granger might be his allies for the moment, but he wouldn't ever reveal that he had taken steps to safeguard his people from the threat that was magic.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

Krum sighed as he massaged his temples with his fingers. "I knew that Potter would have me thrown out of the I.C.W., but I never expected that he could gather so much support this soon. The fact that he is now the Supreme Chancellor is worrisome."

"Surely someone would stop him," the defence secretary exclaimed. "He can't be all-powerful!"

"Unfortunately, he does seem to portray the image of being all-powerful, especially after surviving that many assassination attempts," Krum smiled wryly. He paused, thinking hard. "We need to get rid of him as soon as possible before things get out of hand."

The Prime Minister mentally snorted. When Krum was the Supreme Mugwump and had legitimate power behind him, he had not acted. Now, when he was booted out of office with practically no influence, he wanted to get rid of Potter?

"What do you have in mind?"

"If Potter is allowed free reign, he will do everything in his power to destroy the non-magical world," said Krum. "My parents, wife and daughter were killed because of wizards like him. I won't allow him to win. But in order to stop him, I need your help."

The Prime Minister leaned back as he listened to Krum's idea. It made sense, and his mind began calculating on how best to turn it to his advantage. Of course, he had to ensure that his people were not caught in the middle of this scheme. It would need to be handled carefully.

"I'm not sure this plan is foolproof," said the defence secretary. He took a piece of paper and sketched out what he wanted to achieve.

"Andrew, you can't be serious!" exclaimed the Prime Minister.

"Sir, this is the only way we can guarantee success," he pointed out.

Krum too was feeling uneasy about this. Nothing in his plan had been anything this drastic, but he could also see the efficiency behind what the defence secretary suggested. Potter was insanely powerful. His eyes widened when he remembered something.

"Potter has dealt with your kind of weapons before," Krum stated. _The Obscurial attack._ "I think this plan would be more suitable. I'll also add a few elements to it in order to ensure that the threat of Harry Potter will never rise again."

"Fine," spat the Prime Minister. "If we're doing this, I have a condition of my own."

"Name it," said Krum.

 _ **HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP**_

"What are they discussing?" whispered Hermione Granger. "They've been in there for over two hours!"

The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Percy Weasley, nodded. "I don't know, but do you think this is wise? It's been three years, and the Muggle Prime Minister has done nothing to stop Potter's activities."

Hermione grimaced. She wholeheartedly agreed with her husband. According to the I.C.W., nearly fifty thousand Muggle-borns from around the world had been 'rescued' and adopted by various witches and wizards. There were many who protested against the amendment, but Potter had held rallies in every country, doing his best to convince everyone why the amendment was necessary. Unfortunately, Hermione had to grudgingly admit that Potter was an outstanding orator. Thousands would flock to him, just to hear him speak. She was not surprised at all that he managed to oust Ivan Krum to become the Supreme Chancellor of the I.C.W.

"Why is he doing this?" she wondered out loud. "What could he possibly _gain?_ "

"I don't understand it either," frowned Percy. "Apart from that amendment to the Statute of Secrecy, he's actually proven himself to be a good leader. There's a reason why the public adores him."

Hermione scoffed. "That doesn't negate the fact that he's a bastard who thinks stealing children from their mothers is acceptable," she spat. "He has kids too, doesn't he? Do you think he would be willing to give them up?"

Percy chuckled humourlessly. "Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked wryly.

" _See?_ Then how can he expect others to do so? He doesn't care because the parents of such children are Muggles, and Muggles are beneath the likes of him. He's all about the greatness of the magical world. I really see nothing different between him and You-Know-Who."

"That's harsh, Hermione."

"Maybe," she acknowledged after a pause. "But his actions do portray him that way."

"Do you believe Potter wants to wage a war with the Muggles?" asked Percy. "Mr Krum certainly seems to think so."

"I don't know, Percy," Hermione sighed. "Mr Krum _knows_ how Potter's mind operates. He was Professor Dumbledore's apprentice; that should be enough proof to show that he's very intelligent. Have you realised that all his observations of Potter were proven true? Just after Potter entered politics, Mr Krum predicted that Potter would become the Chief Warlock and a member of the I.C.W. He was right. He told me that Potter would make his stand on the subject of Muggles clear; he was right. He was absolutely sure that Potter would replace him as the Supreme Mugwump. Granted, his timing was not perfect, _but he was right once again!_ What if he's right about Potter wanting to wage a war against the Muggles?"

Percy breathed deeply. "He could be putting the entire world at risk because of his fanatical hate for everything Muggle. If he's anything like Grindelwald …"

"Oh, he is very much like Grindelwald," Hermione muttered darkly. " _The amendment is necessary for the safety and security of the magical world._ That's the same as Grindelwald claiming that everything he did was for the greater good."

Her husband hummed. "Though I do wonder how he swore that oath. Media outlets around the world are buzzing about that."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, I don't doubt for a moment that it's fake."

"You can't fake –" began Percy but was interrupted when the door to the cabinet room opened. The Prime Minister, Defence Secretary and Ivan Krum walked out.

"I'll have my people report to you as soon as I assemble the materials," Krum said quietly.

"Understood," said the Prime Minister, doing his best to hide his glee. "And remember, Mr Krum. It's Potter _and_ Black. That is my only condition. Good day."

The former Supreme Mugwump nodded. There was work to be done.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN_ _: I've really enjoyed reading your opinions on Harry's actions. It makes writing this story worthwhile, so I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for it._**

 ** _Many of you didn't like the amendment. Truthfully, I don't like the concept either. Taking a child away from its mother is something that should never be done. I'll be showing in future chapters about Harry reflecting on the fact that his maternal grandparents loved Lily despite her being magical. He knows his actions are immoral, but he is also a leader who is trying to protect his people during a time of chaos. If you claim that only a few magical children suffered and that most of them didn't, it wouldn't be true, because if that were the case, the Statute of Secrecy wouldn't have been implemented in the first place. Most of them did suffer, and Harry took it upon himself to change that. I've shown two people, Albus Dumbledore during the Voldemort war and Harry Potter during this conflict, both burdened by authority, both of whom are leaders trying their best to protect the magical world in different ways. It is up to you on how you wish to view them._**

 ** _Also, didn't the Jedi do the same? Didn't they take children away from their parents at infancy because of them being Force-sensitive for the sake of the galaxy at large? Then how can the Jedi be good and Harry be bad for doing the same thing? Food for thought._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	53. Stepping Out of the Shadow

**_Chapter 53_**

 ** _Stepping out of the Shadow_**

After his meeting with the Prime Minister, Krum summoned Hermione and Percy. They walked out of the building and Disapparated. Krum took them to a cottage in Scotland, far away from prying eyes. Once they were all seated in the living room, he looked at them with critical eyes.

"You both have worked with me for three years in order to bring Harry Potter down," he said. "I have come to trust you, and I hope neither of you betrays that trust."

"Never, sir," said Hermione passionately. "We are as motivated to stop Potter as you are!"

"Good," Krum nodded. "Then you must do exactly as I say, and we can end the threat of this dark wizard for good. For one, Potter is now the Supreme Chancellor; the leader of the I.C.W is only powerful if he has his people backing him. Unfortunately, Potter has tremendous support internationally. Even before he was elected, he and his wife had a firm grasp on various politicians. As you can see, he surrounded me with his allies, without me even knowing about it, and managed to throw me out. He is cunning and manipulative, and has to be treated with extreme caution."

"What do we do about him, sir?" asked Percy swiftly.

"Getting rid of Potter is my task," explained Krum. "You leave that to me. However, you have to realise that just because Harry Potter is killed, it doesn't mean the crisis will end. Daphne Potter has enough prestige and influence to immediately take over. They are doing their best to brainwash the masses, making them see Muggles in an unfavourable light. I realised what Potter's mission was three years ago – he wants to become the ultimate ruler of the magical world; in short, their dictator."

Percy frowned. "That's what Grindelwand and You-Know-Who tried to do."

"And you think Potter is any less than his predecessors?" Krum shot back. "The fact that he managed to take over the I.C.W. proves how effective he is as compared to Grindelwald and Voldemort. I will not stand for it. He will do his utmost best to wage a war with the Muggles. He's nothing but a petty child who can't get over the fact that he had a miserable childhood. That brat fails to understand that he is not the only one who was rendered an orphan because of dark wizards. I was too, and yet I'm not like him. I've tried reasoning with him multiple times, but it just doesn't do the trick. If one were to observe the pattern of his moves over the last ten years, you'll realise that he's doing everything he possibly can to oppress both wizards as well as Muggles."

"Mr Krum, do you really think he'll be the cause a full-scale war between wizards and Muggles?" asked Percy.

"I'm sure of it," Krum nodded. "Hermione, what is the status of your research project?"

Hermione smiled proudly. "I've been successful, sir," she proclaimed. "I've managed to make magic work on Muggle devices."

After Harry Potter had forced the Confederation to amend the Statute of Secrecy, Krum had realised that the young man's goals might be more towards Muggle oppression that he realised. Why else would Potter want the Muggle-borns out of the way? He had spent many sleepless nights trying to find out what his enemy's goal was. After pouring through volumes that recorded Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort's rise to power, he noticed a pattern. All dark wizards seemed to work in a similar manner.

They recruited people when they were at school. Potter had done the same. Children of important Ambassadors like Su Li, Parvati and Padma Patil, Cho Chang, Blaise Zabini and Anthony Goldstein had all been brought into his circle. Along with that, he had support locally through Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones and Draco Malfoy. After school, he slowly gained strength while doing his best to remain in the shadows and once he was ready, he rose in power and destroyed his enemies.

All dark wizards had an agenda; if one were to observe the ideologies of the recent rogue wizards, they all had one thing in common – their hatred for Muggles.

Harry James Potter was no different.

Krum took a deep breath. "Good. Very good, Hermione," he praised. "I know that you were unhappy about quitting your job at the Ministry, but it looks like your efforts have paid off. I knew you could do it."

Hermione was beaming.

"Sir, why did you ask her to focus on making magic work with Muggle technology?" asked Percy, frowning. "Is it to protect Muggles from Potter's wrath?"

"Partly," Krum nodded. "The other reason is that I want to stop Potter at the root. Remember, the rest of the magical world thinks Potter is as pure as a Unicorn. We know the truth. We have no support among the wizards except for a few select ones. If Potter were to brand all Muggles as enemies of the magical world, which member of the government would have the courage to question him? With the help of the Confederation, he can raise an army and attack the Muggles. The Muggles will not able to stop it because they have no idea what they're fighting against. And what are we going to do? Sit on the sidelines? I think not!"

"Sir, I thought you have a plan to get rid of him soon?" asked Hermione curiously.

Krum smiled. "I am a pragmatic man," he said wryly. "We don't know if that idea will come to fruition. If it does, we can avoid all this. But if I'm unsuccessful in stopping him soon, we'll need to fight Potter in every way possible. Remember Hermione, the lives of hundreds of millions of wizards and several billion Muggles are on our shoulders. Potter is doing his best to start a war, just like Grindelwald did, only to seek power for himself."

"As for why I asked you to devise a method to integrate magic with Muggle technology, that's because we're going to do just that."

"You want me to improve Muggle military technology with magic?" exclaimed Hermione, stunned beyond belief.

"Is that even possible?" asked Percy, looking bewildered.

"Sir, the Muggles have military bases everywhere!" cried Hermione. "Potter could launch an attack _today!_ How are we to prepare for all this?"

"I know, and I have a solution for that," interrupted Krum. Saying so, he flicked his wand, summoning an ornate box from within his bedroom. After disabling the protective enchantments, he opened the lid, revealing a golden chain with an hourglass.

It was a Time-Turner.

"There is a great deal of corruption in the lower levels of the Department of Mysteries," Krum chuckled. "At least, that's how it was ten years ago. They became increasingly closed off after the Obscurial incident."

"H-How did you acquire this?" whispered Percy. "I thought they were strictly controlled by the department."

"Potter recovered most of Unspeakable Bode's possessions during the attack. However, there was an _incident_ that took place a few days later that led to some of the items being destroyed. It was chalked off as exposure to chaotic magic, but in reality, I paid a hefty sum to one of the maintenance wizards in the department to steal it for me. She was later _Obliviated_ as per our agreement. This was one of the things I recovered."

Hermione's eyes widened. "But sir, paradoxes –"

"Not to worry, these won't affect the timeline," Krum said dismissively. "Time travel is more complicated than you think. Algernon Croaker has spent _decades_ studying it. Just because you use a time-turner doesn't mean you can rewrite history. If that were possible," he laughed softly, "then all our problems wouldn't exist. Unfortunately, time-turners don't work that way. They are heavily enchanted and also have a great many restrictions on them. The will and magic of time come into play, similar to that of a magical contract. You can't simply manipulate it to your will. These time-turners will not allow you to alter any major incident in the timeline."

"Then what is the purpose of this?"

"Just because we can't change any significant event that took place doesn't mean we can't prepare," Krum explained. "My contact has informed me that he can make the time-turner work in such a way that it can take us back in time by about a year. Maybe more, if we're lucky. We need to modify their military equipment during that period. We cannot let Potter destroy the world as we know it! We're going to stop him here and now, with the help of the Muggles, if necessary. That's why we'll be doing this. Rest assured, Potter will do something similar, only he won't expect the Muggles to be prepared."

Silence dominated the room as Krum allowed the information to sink in.

"Percy, you are to contact every person on this list," said Krum, handing him a sheet of parchment containing a long list of names. "They're all talented witches and wizards who are not fooled by Potter. They will surely help our cause."

"I will get right on it, Mr Krum," said Percy as he Disapparated with a _crack_.

Hermione felt hope well in her chest. Finally, things were moving in the right direction. With their combined effort, Potter would stand no chance. Of that, Hermione was sure.

"Let's hope we aren't too late to take care of this mess," Krum sighed, rubbing his temples. "If we lose …"

"We won't lose, sir," Hermione said fervently. "We have you as our leader. We'll succeed because we know we're doing the right thing by stopping Potter. Maybe we should name our rebellion after the person he hates most. What do you think of _Dumbledore's Army_?"

Krum's head shot up, his eyes burning with the desire for revenge. He licked his lips, baring his teeth as he said, "That's a great idea. It is quite fitting for a group dedicated to fighting Gellert Grindelwald's successor. To Dumbledore's Army!"

"To Dumbledore's Army!" repeated Hermione.

"There is something else I want to tell you," Krum said seriously. "Should something happen to me, I want you to lead the rebellion. You are a capable witch, Hermione, and you're also the best person for the job since you are a Muggle-born and know the intricacies of the Muggle world. I want you to listen to me very carefully."

Hermione nodded.

"My gut tells me that Potter will attack soon. With so much influence over the members of the Confederation, it won't be difficult for him to raise an army. Once we have modified the time-turner, I want you and my allies to work with the Muggles to improve their weapons. Potter will surely have something up his sleeve. We have to be unpredictable if we are to defeat him."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Hermione seriously.

"The problem Muggles faced during the war with Grindelwald and Voldemort was that they didn't know about the existence of magic," explained Krum. "That's why they couldn't fight back. But now, should Potter attack and should the situation get out of hand, I want you to make contact with the Muggle version of the I.C.W – the United Nations."

Hermione understood immediately.

"With the heads of all their countries knowing about the existence of magic and with the enhanced weapons we have at our disposal, we can end any sort of war before Potter gains a high ground," she exclaimed. "With Potter and his top aides defeated, everything can go back to how it was!"

Krum sighed in relief. _Finally,_ someone had enough common sense to comprehend what he was saying!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Potter Castle_**

It was nighttime. Harry was sitting at his favourite spot by the lake, leaning against the trunk of a tree. The stars were twinkling in the night sky, with the reflection of the full moon seen in the dark waters of the expansive lake. In the distance, bright lights illuminated Potter Castle, giving it a breathtaking appearance. Small balls of light were suspended at various points all over the grounds, providing enough brightness for him to see.

 _Bodyguards._

Even after three years as Chief Warlock – a position from which he had resigned recently – and as the new Supreme Chancellor, he never got used to having bodyguards. The Black family was accustomed to it, having bodyguards since the time Sirius was elected as the Minister of Magic back in 2003. The members of the Potter family, however, were not used to so many Hit-Wizards positioned at various points throughout the castle and grounds. It was overkill, Harry had protested, but Dylan had overruled him.

Though in all fairness, he could not blame his brother. Seventeen assassination attempts (Harry had lost count, but Daphne and Dylan, apparently, had not) would make anyone paranoid.

His gaze caught the figure flying above the lake. His eyes narrowed as he realised the problem.

"No, Bella. You need to tilt the broom slightly," he instructed, his voice enhanced using a _Sonorus_ charm. "A perfect Sloth Grip Roll is executed only when you achieve the precise balance."

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" yelled Belladonna from above.

She was flying the Firebolt, hanging upside down as she tried to execute a Sloth Grip Roll. She huffed in frustration.

"Relax, princess. Take a deep breath and try again _._ Don't give up; you're making good progress."

Belladonna sighed and shouted back, "I'll go for a spin and come back, Daddy. I'll try it later."

With that, she zoomed away. Normally, Harry wouldn't have ever agreed to give something as fast as a Firebolt to any child. Even Rigel had been complaining that he was never allowed on the Firebolt. But Belladonna was different. She was perhaps the most gifted flyer he had ever seen. Such talent shouldn't be wasted and hence, he was determined to train her well.

"They grow up so soon, eh girl?" whispered Harry as he stroked the dark feathers of the royal phoenix. The creature trilled softly, butting its head against Harry's hand. He smiled. This was the same phoenix he had rescued nine years ago, when the Bode and Barebone had captured the creature, using its powers for their own benefit. The royal phoenix had taken a shining to Harry and had decided to find him and stay as his companion.

The creature's feathers were as black as the cosmos, with the tips bright orange, as if they were lit with flames. Dark eyes gazed at Harry fondly. Harry was mesmerized. The royal phoenix, originally the size of a Thunderbird, was now the size of Fawkes. Apparently, the creature that represented the magical element of space could change its size. Beyond the obvious affinity with the vacuum of space, the royal phoenix was said to have the most melodious voice on the planet. The magical properties of its songs were still a mystery.

After the creature had shown up a few years ago, Harry had meticulously read Dumbledore's book on phoenixes, paying attention to the late headmaster's assessment on how to identify their age. After observing the royal phoenix, Harry had come to the startling discovery that the creature was still extremely young – practically a fledgeling – and had yet to go through its first burning day. It then made sense to him as to why the bird had been caught by Bode and why it had been contained despite great legends of its impressive magical feats; the poor phoenix was still discovering its powers. It was like an infant, learning to crawl.

Wanting to name his new female companion, and after much research, Harry had chosen a word from Sanskrit – _Chāyā_ , which translated to shadow. Dark, stealthy and powerful, the royal phoenix was as fond of Harry's family as they were of her.

"See you tomorrow?" he whispered. The phoenix trilled softly before disappearing into a dark vortex.

"Daddy?"

Harry blinked. Belladonna had landed next to him, her emerald green eyes filled with concern. "What's wrong, Daddy?" she asked.

"Nothing, Bella, I'm fine," he muttered.

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, sitting on his lap and cupping his face with her hand. "Something is bothering you. What is it?"

Harry smiled faintly. He would have to tread carefully here if he were to get some answers he desperately needed.

"I'll tell you if you answer my question, princess. Deal?"

"Deal!" smirked Belladonna, fist-pumping her father.

"Tell me, what's going on with your brother?"

Belladonna stiffened slightly but calmed down almost immediately. "Jamie's fine," she said dismissively. "All he does is read. I'm telling you, there's no need to send him to Hogwarts, Daddy. He'll probably finish his education by the time he's eleven."

"That's pushing it, even for a genius like him, but you know as well as I do that I wasn't referring to James. I was talking about your twin brother."

"You know, it's past dinner time. We better get back inside or Mum will be furious."

" _Bella!_ "

"Sorry, Daddy, but I can't say anything without breaching the trust Charlie has placed in me," Belladonna muttered, turning away. "Sibling confidentiality, you know."

"That's what James said as well," frowned Harry. "How is it that Charlie acts perfectly normal around you two, but not with us or anyone else? We're his parents!"

"Maybe you should ask him."

"Bella, your mother and I have been trying for months to get him to talk to us about what's bothering him!" Harry replied in exasperation. "He barely smiles these days. He's practising magic at a rate that can be harmful to him and nothing we say gets into his head. What happened to the bubbly young boy that was my oldest son? Why is he acting like this?"

Belladonna sighed in resignation. "How else would he act, Daddy," she whispered, "when everyone he interacts with outside the family compares him to you and Mum?"

Harry froze. Things clicked into place. "He thinks –"

"He thinks he's not good enough to be your son. When I told you that we don't like attending those social events held at the Ministry, I meant it. People tried the same with me, but when they realised that I could talk back, they stopped. James is always attached to you or Mum wherever we go, so no one bothers him. Charlie isn't like me. He may look tough, but he's a softie! People _constantly_ compare him with how you were at our age. That's why he keeps pushing himself so hard. I've tried talking to him, but you know how he is. Charlie is like Mum. He has a mean temper and after a while, I decided to avoid that topic. He made me promise that I wouldn't tell you both about this. He's not mad at you; he only wants to make you proud."

"We _are_ proud of him! Of _all_ of you!"

"I know," Belladonna smiled. "But he's not willing to listen."

"If you promised him not to tell me, then why –"

"He's my brother, Daddy. Sometimes he does stupid things that make me want to throttle him, and we do bicker constantly, but that doesn't mean I love him any less. We share a lot of secrets with each other. We're close. I can't ever stand to see him unhappy. Please, Daddy, _please_ talk some sense into him!"

"I will," Harry exhaled.

Finally, he had a lead. He and Daphne had been flying in circles for _months_ , trying to understand what was troubling their beloved son. But now he knew.

"Now it's your turn," she said, tapping the tip of his nose. "Talk!"

Harry chuckled. "Your mother is still mad at me because I forgot our wedding anniversary last month. I don't know how to appease her."

"You do know that she's toying with you like always, right?" asked Belladonna incredulously. "I know for a fact that Mum doesn't care about such things."

Harry smirked at her. "And who said I'm not toying with _her?_ Don't tell anyone, but I've arranged a special dinner for her tonight; a picnic by the lake, under the moonlight. What do you think?"

Belladonna laughed as she pinched her father's cheek playfully. "There may be hope for you yet, Daddy."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Charles Potter might be a nine-year-old boy, but even as a wizard, he was quite large for his age. A Muggle would comment that he resembled a thirteen or fourteen-year-old instead. Standing five feet eight inches in height, an expressionless face with clothes torn and scars on his body, he looked less like a child and more like a seasoned warrior.

Eight-year-old James Potter stood next to his mother, looking at his older brother worriedly. As usual, he had a thick book clutched in his hand. Unlike the well-built Charlie, James was much smaller in stature. He looked fragile and childlike. But his eyes were always glinting with intelligence well beyond his years. Daphne was sitting on the sofa next to her son, muttering under her breath as her wand danced in the air, healing Charlie's injuries.

Daphne looked at her son worriedly. She had tried to be understanding and was doing her best to find out what was wrong with her son. But when he returned injured, which mother would be silent?

"Do you have something to say?"

Charlie remained stoic. "What do you want me to say, Mum?" he asked quietly.

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking, picking a fight with Lucas Smith. When we enrolled you in a school for sword-fighting, I didn't think you would come home like _this!_ " she yelled. "Charlie, why are you acting like this? I've tried speaking to you about this for _months!_ What's bothering you? What have I done wrong? Do you hate me, Charlie? Is that why you're constantly acting out like this?"

Charlie's face softened. Turning to face his mother, he wrapped his arms around her neck and embraced her tightly.

"I could never hate you, Mum," he whispered. "I love you!"

Tears stung her eyes as Daphne gently caressed her son's face. "Then please tell me what's bothering you. You're always doing something rash and unpredictable, which, more times than not, puts your life in danger. You're studying and training hard, and I'm very proud of you for that, but you're becoming reclusive. And now you do this!"

"Mum, relax. I'm fine. I wasn't in any danger."

"You call this not being in danger? This scar on your chest is deep. You nearly got impaled by the sword, didn't you?"

"I admit, Lucas got a few surprising nicks on me. It's nothing bad."

"That was not a small cut! Had your bodyguards not found you in time, you and Smith could have died! Do you enjoy being in pain?"

"They're exaggerating, Mum. Besides, high pain tolerance is essential to becoming a great warrior like you and Dad," Charlie said, his voice trailing off at the end.

Daphne frowned. Her oldest had always been the most athletic of her children and was fascinated with magical duels and sword fights. But for several months now, he had become increasingly withdrawn. Both he and Belladonna spent more time learning Offensive Magic and they had already moved on to learn wanded subjects from their instructors, who all, naturally, praised the twins' wand work.

In their spare time, while Belladonna concentrated on flying, Charlie attended other classes that interested him. His master in sword-fighting and martial arts had said that Charlie had begun to work three times harder than before since the beginning of the year. He was emotionally closed off than before too. The Mind Healer Harry and Daphne had consulted said that Charlie was not depressed, but was still dealing with something that troubled him greatly, making him act out. The reason for which, however, was still unknown.

 _Why is he acting like this?_

The wards tingled and Daphne immediately turned towards the door. Harry and Belladonna entered the informal drawing room. The former stopped in his tracks when he saw his oldest son. Belladonna quickly moved towards her twin brother, giving him a soft hug, conversing with him and James in quiet tones.

"What happened?" demanded Harry.

"Our son decided to challenge an older boy, Lucas Smith, to a duel," said Daphne quietly, "and nearly got himself killed in the process. Not only that, Smith had to be taken to St Mungo's for treatment."

Before Harry could open his mouth, the wards tingled once more. One of the Hit-Wizards entered the drawing room and saluted smartly. Harry spoke to the woman softly and nodded. Within two minutes, the Floo in the entrance hall of the castle flared up and Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was ushered inside.

Bowing respectfully to them, Kingsley spoke in a deep voice, "Your Excellency, Lady Potter, Lucas Smith has been admitted to St Mungo's Hospital for treatment but the Healers have assured me that he will make a full recovery. Unfortunately, Lord Smith did not take the attack on his grandson lightly. He's filed a complaint against your family. As part of the investigation, I'm here to question your oldest son."

Belladonna and James clutched each of his arms tightly. Charlie didn't even flinch as he looked at the tall and imposing Auror. His green eyes observed his parents. His mother looked worried. His father, however, had a mask on his face similar to his own.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie began.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

It was nearly eleven in the night and Daphne was pacing. The cool night air that entered through the large windows didn't seem to soothe her nerves. Finally, the door opened and her husband walked in.

"How did it go?"

"Lord Smith has agreed not to press charges," sighed Harry as he undressed for bed. "And I control the media. The case is closed. You should have seen Zacharias Smith's face when I arrived. The only reason he didn't attack me is that he's terrified that I'd curse him into oblivion."

"How did you convince them not to press charges?"

"It's not like Lucas Smith was innocent, you know. Both of them were at fault. Our son wasn't badly wounded because Charlie is more talented with a sword than Lucas. But for kids their age, they certainly fought viciously. Had it gone any further, however, the situation would have been a lot worse."

She bit her lip. "You need to talk to him," Daphne exhaled. "Harry, something is wrong with my baby boy, I know it! I've tried everything! Please, Harry, you have to find out what's wrong."

"I understand," he said quietly. He turned on his heel and made his way to Charlie's room. When he was within one foot of the door, he sensed the wards informing his son of his presence.

"Come in."

Charlie had already divested himself of his clothes, nude and ready for bed. Even though he was healed, the scars had not disappeared. Harry entered the room and shut the door. Absentmindedly, he summoned the jar that contained the salve that made scars disappear.

"Lie down on your back," he instructed. When the boy did so, Harry gently rubbed the salve on his son's body.

"What does Grandma Amelia have to say about this?"

"I don't know," confessed Harry, "because I haven't told her yet."

Once he was finished, he pulled his son up and engulfed the boy in a tight hug. Charlie immediately melted into the embrace and Harry felt warm tears trickle down his chest.

"Charlie, what's wrong?" asked Harry soothingly. "Why are you acting like this? You don't socialise anymore, you restrict yourself only to your siblings and you practice magic and sword-fighting at a level that can be harmful to you. You rarely smile these days. What happened to the boy who demanded that I smile all the time?"

His question was met with silence.

"Come on, kiddo. Please, Charlie? Your mother and I have been trying for months to get you to talk to us. But you don't listen. Why? Have we done something wrong?"

Tears pricked the eyes of the young boy as he held on to his father tightly, sobbing heartbreakingly. Harry gently rocked him back and forth as he tried to calm him down. Conjuring a glass wandlessly, he filled it with water and gently placed it at Charlie's mouth, urging him to drink. After a few gulps, he calmed down slightly.

"Now tell me what happened."

Charlie swallowed. "It's not easy being your son, Dad," he whispered. "Everyone compares me to you. My instructors, my friends at martial arts class, different people I meet at various events – _everyone_! They all expect me to be like you. And if I don't perform admirably …"

Harry exhaled. "Charlie, I understand what you're going through."

"No you don't," he muttered.

"Yes, I do. Being the son of James and Lily Potter wasn't easy for me either. When I came to Hogwarts, all my teachers judged me. When I was sorted into Ravenclaw, they judged me. When I wasn't a prankster, even your Grandfather Sirius judged me. Forget about me, Charlie, do you know how difficult it was for your Uncle Dylan to survive in school, known to everyone as the illegitimate son of the notorious Death Eater Rabastan Lestrange?"

Charlie was silent.

Harry kneeled down in front of his son. "Look," he said softly. "I know it's not easy. That's why I never pressured you into anything. Please don't listen to them. You are Charles Potter. You are _not_ Harry Potter. You are your own person. And you're special just the way you are. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

The boy nodded slowly.

"What caused you to –"

"I heard you and Uncle Dylan talking about the war. I thought – well – if I was as strong as you and Mum, then maybe people won't be disappointed in me."

"Charlie, look!" Harry said firmly. "Your mother and I are extremely proud of you. You do not need to seek validation from anyone else. Which nine-year-old wizard is as proficient with a sword as you? Or in offensive magic with a wand even before formal wand-based schooling? I'll tell you … _no one!_ Not even I was this talented at your age!"

"Really?" asked Charlie in surprise.

"Yes," smiled Harry, running his fingers through his son's dark-blonde hair. "You are exceptional, much like your siblings, but realise that you are all different in your own ways. This is something I told James as well. I don't care if he isn't good at Quidditch or if he can't ride a broom properly. He's special in that he's exceptional when it comes to knowledge. The books he reads now are the ones I had read at the age of thirteen! The same goes for your sister. I certainly couldn't fly like that at her age! You're our children, and your mother and I love you just the way you are. Now tell me, why did you attack that boy?"

Charlie's face darkened with anger.

"Lucas called you a dark wizard and compared you to the likes of Voldemort and Grindelwald," he spat. "He said that you're a bad man for that law you enacted a few years ago and that one day, they'll arrest you and toss you through the Veil of Death. I – I couldn't control my temper, Dad. How could he say something like that to my face? I'm younger than him, and I still know that should the situation be reversed, I'd never say the same to him. I just lost it then and there and – well – I had a sword in my hand and used it to attack him."

Harry rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "Charlie, please don't think I'm encouraging you to speak this way," he sighed. "But you have to realise that Zacharias Smith is an idiot. Lucas is only spouting what his parents and family members speak at home. He's just an eleven-year-old boy. And the Smiths are people who don't matter. They're known for being arrogant jerks with a superiority complex the size of a Hungarian Horntail. That's how they are. Not everyone will agree with my policies. They may be good, they may be bad, but idiots such as they won't understand where I'm coming from. Should I succeed in my endeavour, history will remember me as a great leader. Should I fail, I'll be branded as the worst Dark Lord that existed on the face of the Earth. Right now, I can't think about what people might view me five hundred years in the future. Given the troubled situation today, I will do what I must to protect my people. Let history be the judge of my actions."

"Charlie, the I.C.W. has rescued nearly fifty thousand Muggle-borns living in Muggle areas, nearly all of them abused because of their powers. What does Smith know about living in such conditions, huh? Ask me and Dylan, we'll tell you! Or ask Jacen, he'll tell you what life was like, living in a Muggle orphanage before being adopted by the Greengrasses. Yes, what I did was harsh. And I admit there are Muggles who don't mistreat their children, even after they show signs of accidental magic. They even love their children dearly."

"My own grandparents fell into that category, but even though I knew that, I still had to take a call. I can't pick and choose which children can fully integrate with the magical world and who can't. The law is universal; it applies equally to everyone. The same law that applies to the common witch and wizard applies to the Supreme Chancellor as well. That's why my idea was distasteful to many. But this amendment was necessary. A lot of good has come from this law. All those Muggle-borns have been blood-adopted and are in stable homes around the world. Through this amendment, we have achieved complete secrecy. It has worked for the safety of the magical society at large. Politics is dirty, and it influences kids too. That's why I've kept you three informed about what's going on."

"Except you didn't tell us about this impending wizard-Muggle war."

"Well, you didn't need to know about that just yet," frowned Harry. "Stop eavesdropping; it's a bad habit. My point is that you shouldn't let such people rile you up. Unfortunately, you've inherited your mother's temper. And with that, you need to be careful. Let them call me a dark wizard. Charlie, _who cares?_ I don't want to sound egoistic, but do they even realise the fact that I'm the Supreme Chancellor of the I.C.W? Do they know that your mother is the Vice-Admiral, the global deputy head of the Department of Mysteries? Their threats are _ridiculous!_ "

"I'm sorry, Dad," Charlie said, looking guilty.

"You nearly got yourself and Lucas killed today," Harry said quietly. "Be grateful that you're not being dragged to your grandmother's office, or worse, the Council of Magical Law, for this. Had something happened to either of you, there could have been serious consequences!"

Charlie swallowed. Only now did he realise that what a huge blunder he had made. "What's my punishment?" he asked, dreading it.

"You're grounded for a month. You'll have no access to your broom, E-Mirror, swimming pool or anything else. And no desserts at dinner time too. Twice a week, you'll have to clean the stables without magic. You'll get up early every morning to train with me and Uncle Dylan. Your sister has already agreed to do the same, but unlike her, you don't have a choice. No compromises, is that clear?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good," Harry nodded. He observed his son's face. "There is also something else."

Charlie looked up curiously. His eyes widened when he saw a flash of golden light. A ruby-encrusted sword materialised in his father's hand. He recognised it instantly.

"You are the scion of the Peverell Clan," Harry said softly. "I've held on to this sword for long enough. It's time that I passed it down to you. Use it well."

The Potter heir looked at the sword in awe as he carefully took it from his father. It was masterfully designed, with the handle encrusted with rubies the size of eggs, and the three-foot-long blade made of goblin silver. He knew that this sword meant a lot to his father. He had killed Salazar's basilisk with this sword; he had killed the Dark Lord Voldemort with this sword. It had been further charmed by Harry, creating a barrier to ensure that the venom wouldn't kill anyone unless the user wished for it. On the blade, just beneath the hilt were the words –

"Godric Gryffindor," whispered Charlie, closing his eyes and bringing the sword to his forehead in respect for his great ancestor. He looked up, only to see the smiling face of his father.

"It's yours, Charlie."

Charlie swallowed heavily. Placing the sword on his desk, he grabbed his father in a tight hug, unable to convey his thanks in mere words. Harry rested his chin on his son's head, closed his eyes and smiled.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Ready?" Daphne inquired. She grabbed her shrunken bag and placed it in her pocket.

Harry nodded.

"You'll be good for Mummy, won't you?" cooed Dylan. His one-month-old daughter, Athena Lestrange, simply gurgled at him.

Astoria smiled softly. "I doubt requesting her will do the trick, Dylan."

"Oh, you never know," said Dylan, cuddling his daughter and making funny faces for her. "Maybe if we ask, she'll finally let her Mummy and Daddy sleep without interruption."

"Doubtful," she laughed.

"Behave, you three," Daphne said sternly, looking at her children. "We'll be gone for a couple of days. Listen to your aunt, okay? And for Salazar's sake, don't get into trouble! She's not in a state to chase you around the castle."

"Yes, Mum," nodded James fervently. Belladonna chucked at her little brother's antics, giving him a one-armed hug. Charlie gave a curt nod.

After another round of hugs and kisses, Harry, Daphne and Dylan took off into the air. Flying to an appropriate height, they twisted in mid-air and Disapparated.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Where exactly is the home of the Elves, Master?" inquired Harry. "And how are we getting there?"

They were at the southernmost tip of the South American continent. Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel were leading them, with him in the middle, and Daphne and Dylan bringing up the rear.

"If we tell you, that'll ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?" asked Perenelle.

"No offence, my Lady, but I would prefer to know where we're going. That's why I asked."

"Relax, _chela_ ," said Nicolas. "Here, take this rope. It's a form of Elvin Portkey. It should take us to our destination."

Daphne and Dylan looked at each other wearily. They all grabbed the rope and a few seconds later, they felt the air compress around them, very similar to how house-elf Apparition felt like. However, this lasted longer. After a few uncomfortable seconds, they all landed on their feet, their surroundings covered in a blanket of snow.

Dylan immediately flicked his fingers, casting a charm to detect their location. His eyes widened in surprise.

"We're in Antarctica!" he declared.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Daphne, Nicolas and Perenelle, however, seemed confused.

"What's Antarctica?" frowned Daphne. "I've never heard of it."

"This continent is the home of the Elves," explained Perenelle. "Welcome to _Terkum_."

" _Terkum_?" Dylan whispered to his brother.

"Antarctica is the Muggle term to denote this place, little brother," Harry said quietly. "In the magical world, it's known as _Terkum_ – the southernmost continent."

The group of five walked in silence for several minutes. Daphne whispered to her husband, "Do you sense it?"

"The enhanced magical activity? Yes, we're close. Dylan, relax. We're not going to be attacked."

The younger man was searching the surrounding area for emerging threats. "Force of habit," he muttered. "Besides, you can never be too careful."

After fifteen minutes, they were taken through a barrier, the protective enchantments letting them through. Their eyes widened in surprise. They had entered a city. The buildings, unlike the enhanced magical stone used by wizards, were completely made of magically enhanced ice that was as strong as stone. They sparkled in the dim sunlight. Daphne touched the outer wall of one of the buildings.

"It's cold but not as cold as I expected," she observed.

"They're temperature controlled," Perenelle told her. "Elves prefer a cold environment. This has been our home for millennia. You'll find several other cities like this spread throughout the continent. There are settlements in the north too, starting from Northern Canada to Eastern Siberia, well beyond any wizarding dwellings. That area is called _Udichum_."

"The Arctic?" asked Dylan. Harry nodded.

As they walked through the high street, many of the Elves cheered and welcomed them, bowing to Harry with respect. The young Lord Potter felt very uncomfortable with this.

"Looks like they're all fans of the Boy-Who-Lived," muttered Daphne. Dylan snorted in amusement.

At the end of the high street, the palace was visible. Unlike wizards, the Elves preferred simplicity. It was a large but modest residential complex, with Elvin guards everywhere. What made Daphne curious was that there were no house-elves here at all. If all of them were the same, why weren't they here too?

The Queen of the Elves was ancient looking. Wrinkles dominated her face. Dark-blue completion, like the rest of Elves, with large, pointed ears and orange eyes was a stark contrast to the silky white robe she was wearing. Her crown was a mixture of ice and pearls, affixed with exotic flowers.

Having always been extremely sensitive to magic, much more than what was considered remotely normal, the Queen saw something strange when the three humans stood before her. Their auras seemed to be linked together. In fact, she could see black in Harry, white in Daphne, and grey in Dylan. She could see more, with one of them shrinking, looking like a little boy as he stood in-between the couple. The three of them seemed to fill the room with their mere presence alone. It was as if Mother Magic herself had come before her.

Blinking, the Queen forced herself back to the present. "Lord Potter, Lady Potter, Lord Lestrange. Welcome to _Terkum_. Please take a seat."

"It's an honour to meet you, Your Highness," Harry bowed, followed by his wife and brother.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: __Having a famous parent isn't easy and I thought this situation had to be addressed, especially after the release of 'Cursed Child'. While I can sympathise with Harry and Albus, I still think the former could have handled the situation better. It was more of the Gryffindor/Slytherin hate discussion and 'Do what I tell you' speech than a true father/son bonding. I always thought given Harry's childhood, he would try to never alienate his children like that, ordering them to break off friendships. Cursed Child went completely against Harry's character. Too bad._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone!_**


	54. The Curse of Magic

**_Chapter 54_**

 ** _The Curse of Magic_**

 ** _Camelot_**

"Enjoyed lunch, Jamie?" asked Amelia, smiling fondly at her grandson. The youngest Potter had decided to spend the day with his paternal grandmother while his siblings spent the day with their maternal grandparents at Greengrass Manor, where Astoria was resting. Sirius had been unexpectedly whisked away to Australia for a meeting with their Minister and with Rigel at Hogwarts, Amelia didn't mind looking after James. She could certainly use the company.

"Uh-huh," nodded James excitedly. "They had all my favourites! I loved it!"

Amelia chuckled. "Well, I have a lot of paperwork to finish, so what are you going to do until then? Maybe play with someone –"

"No, no, no, I'll read my book," said James. "Mummy and Daddy recently gave me another book on Ancient Runes. It's fascinating and I want to learn more about it."

She blinked in surprise. The book he was holding was the Ancient Runes textbook a third-year Hogwarts student would have. And ever since McGonagall became headmistress, Runes was a subject that was taught since first year, so an eight-year-old child reading an advanced textbook startled her.

"You can understand that?" Amelia asked incredulously.

"Sure," shrugged James. "It's kind of simple."

"Wow," muttered Amelia under her breath. "Wish I had brains like yours."

Kissing his head affectionately, she sat behind her desk and was soon lost in the mountain of paperwork that lay before her. One hour later, her secretary announced that Algernon Croaker wanted to speak to her. In less than a minute, he was ushered inside.

"I'm afraid I'm not here for a social call, Amy," Croaker said hurriedly. "Sirius received a message from the Muggle Prime Minister. Strangely enough, Harry received a letter too. My intelligence wing thought something was fishy and decided to investigate. Apparently, the Prime Minister wants to discuss something very important about the magical world. He's demanding that they meet him this evening."

"Why?" asked Amelia, sounding surprised. "Algernon, ever since the amendment to the Statute of Secrecy, there is no need for us to interact with anyone in the Muggle government. Who cares if he sends a letter?"

"Normally, I'd agree with you. But my spies have told me that there are people who are not happy with the amendment. They seem to be working with the Prime Minister. I'm not sure who is involved, for my agent couldn't gather names, but the Muggle's role in this is confirmed. I really don't want another Obscurial incident, Amelia. With everything going on right now, that's just not something we are equipped to handle."

"You want to get to the bottom of this," sighed Amelia. "I'll come with you if you agree to do half my paperwork. Some idiot decided it was a good idea to interbreed a Crup and a Kneazle. The said dog-cat hybrid is now in high demand, but not registered or cleared by the Ministry. Since it violates the Ban on Experimental Breeding, Amos Diggory is on my head, demanding that I take action against this person."

Croaker smirked. "Hagrid?"

"Well, at least this dog-cat hybrid is not dangerous! Apparently, they're very cute and cuddly. Rigel mirror-called me last night and demanded I buy him one!"

"I want one too, Grandma!" chirped James from behind a thick book.

"See what I mean?"

Croaker laughed. "Well, if this meeting with the Prime Minister works out well, I'll help you deal with Amos Diggory. There is a certain knack to distracting him."

"Oh, there's no knack to it at all. All you have to do is mention his son and he'll forget what he's talking about and start boasting about Cedric Diggory's achievements. How his son ended up so humble and down-to-earth is beyond me!"

James looked up from his book, observing the two curiously. A mischievous smirk formed on his face.

He loved watching his grandmother turn into the strict Auror. And if she was going to threaten this Muggle person, he would surely have to watch! It would be downright hilarious … and educational. Yes, educational. That was definitely important.

Hmm … now how to go about doing this? James eagerly flipped the pages of his book and his eyes lit up when he found the runic array that mimicked the effects of a notice-me-not charm.

Charlie and Bella would be sorry they missed this!

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _The royal palace, Terkum_**

"Your Majesty, my _chela_ is most curious about the alliance humans and elves have shared for millennia. I was hoping you could shed some light on our history."

Harry eyed the Queen introspectively.

"I'm sure you all know about the ice age," the Queen said. "The planet has undergone several ice ages in its lifetime. The most recent one ended about twelve thousand years ago. You might already know that most of the world's population at the time perished due to rising sea levels. Unfortunately, that's only half the story."

The three of them leaned forward with interest.

"The history of wizards and Elves date back to one hundred thousand years," she explained. "Many magical empires rose and fell during this period. They were an advanced society, and unlike today, there was no division in species. There were many other problems, but this was not one of them. Humans and Elves were the two dominant magical species that existed at the time. We have plenty of proof for this. Sculptures and stone manuscripts that survived the end of the ice age were collected and preserved by Elvin historians. I assure you, I'm not lying."

"We would never accuse you of that, Your Highness," said Daphne. "Please continue."

"Prophecies about the impending rise in sea levels did not sit well with the human and Elvin royalty," said the Queen, frowning slightly. "From what our ancestors told us, there were three factions – the first, who believed in the prophecies and wanted to escape the rising seas by seeking refuge near the mountainous areas; the second, who believed that there was nothing to be worried about, and that it was all a hoax; and the third, a large group led by a human who believed they were powerful enough to stop nature from completing its cycle."

Harry frowned and turned to his master. Nicolas nodded discreetly, telling him that it was true.

"You have to understand that these people were not primitive. They were advanced and had a firm grasp on magic. It may not be similar to what we use today, and the humans back then most certainly did not have wands, but they were still very skilled in magic. They found a way to tap into the planet's core and believed they could manipulate it in order to stop the rise in sea levels. The proof? We have stone manuscripts that give explicit detail on how this is done. I assure you, the present day Elves did not create such a complex ritual."

"Did they succeed, Your Highness?" asked Dylan. "Since we know they perished, something must have gone wrong."

"Something did go wrong, yes, Lord Lestrange. You see, nature gave them plenty of warnings. They had time to evacuate. Their Seers and magical theorists had warned them about the calamity, but they chose to take a drastic action. They chose to defy nature by trying to alter the planet's life cycle. Their ritual was able to reach the planet's core. They weren't able to stop the rise in sea levels, but they certainly managed to harm themselves. There was an unexpected secondary effect on those who participated in the ritual. Since the ritual was powerful, tens of thousands of humans and thousands of Elves had to pour their magic in order to stop nature's fury. What happened was that there was an inverse magical pulse directed towards them from the planet's core. It affected their bodies – or more importantly, their magic. The ancients called it the curse of Mother Magic."

Harry's eyes widened. Daphne and Dylan realised it as well.

 _'_ _The ones cursed by magic have begun their path to chaos …'_

"These people survived, didn't they?" asked Daphne, going by a hunch. "Their magic was affected during the ritual. They were the ancestors of the Muggles we see today."

"May Lady Athena be merciful," muttered Dylan. "The original Muggles were all once _wizards!_ "

"And the Elves who took part in the ritual were turned into house-elves?" asked Harry.

The Queen nodded solemnly. "Nature does not differentiate between good or bad, Lord Potter. What is good for one will be bad for the other. A tiger will appear to be a bad creature from a deer's point of view, but to the tiger, the deer is food. Without food, it'll die. Checks and balances exist everywhere. That's how the universe continues to exist. And should the balance tilt either way, it will lead to destruction."

"Before the ritual failed, once their magic reached the planet's core, the humans believed they could exploit it for their own benefit," explained Perenelle. "In retaliation for their goals, nature snuffed out their magic instead. This was the 'curse'. What happened to the Elves is not seen as a curse because they could still keep their magic. These ancient Elves wanted to control the planet's core to stop the rise in sea levels. As punishment, they were forced to bond with magical humans in order to live. They grew smaller and weaker, until they were mere shadows of their former selves. They can't exist without their human masters."

The Queen continued. "After the ice age ended, the cursed humans lived with their magical counterparts with relative ease, but unfortunately, things weren't rosy for long – _'Those who take nature for granted and use its resources for one's selfishness without a hint of remorse will not be spared.'_ That was actually a prophecy that was recited by an Elvin Seer soon after that incident. We can see the effects of it today. With rifts beginning to occur with the humans, we decided to stay away, mostly because our population was decimated. Millions of Elves had perished. Millions of humans had also perished. Our Elvin ancestors decided to cut off all contact with other magical species, trying to rebuild our culture and civilization. At that point, the future of the Elves was very uncertain. We did interact with humans, but as the population of non-magical humans grew, we decided to keep to ourselves. We had our own problems to face."

"Understandable," nodded Harry.

"For you to understand Muggles, you have to understand the nature of the ritual that failed," said the Queen. "Their magic was sucked out, but as you know, nothing in the universe can exist without magic. Only a minuscule amount was left in them, just enough for them to live. Very soon, it was clear that the ritual did more than just drain their magic. Humans who were supposed to live for two hundred and fifty years or more died a natural death at the age of eighty. Their growth slowed down. Puberty that was to start at the age of eight or nine began to manifest itself at the age of twelve or thirteen. Their mental growth slowed down. A child that was to start walking at the age of two to three months started doing so only at about ten to twelve months."

"What was stranger still," interrupted Nicolas, "was their near fanatical hate for anything magical. Our theory is that the failed ritual sucked out their magic in an instant. Our bodies are not used to living with such low levels of magic. Healers have a theory; sometimes, a pain can manifest itself purely because you are thinking about it. You are actually perfectly healthy, but since you _believe_ you are sick, you really are sick. In such cases, Healers also treat their patients by convincing them that they are being given medical potions, which truthfully, will probably be a fruit drink instead. The corollary also holds true. The sick patient, thinking he is being fed treats instead of medicine, feels better due to treatment. The mind believes what it chooses to believe. The same concept applies here."

"Their DNA was altered due to the incident. Our magical theorists believe their brains programmed themselves to adjust to the sudden lack of magic. In order to preserve their bodies, the brain reacted in the only way it knew to save itself – by hating the very thing it needs to survive. By hating magic, Muggles are able to think of newer ways of innovation. Look at what they have achieved! It certainly is no easy task, living without magic. Meanwhile, as they reproduced, the mutated DNA passed down to the descendants as well. They could not give birth to magical children unless they had a child with a witch or wizard."

"That's why you're facing so many problems with abused magical children, Lord Potter," the Queen said. "They are conditioned to hate magic. Some parents of Muggle-borns, however, have their magical DNA awakened. Not enough to use magic actively, but enough to keep their brains from hating magic."

Harry couldn't help but think of his maternal grandparents, Andrew and Rosemary Evans, who absolutely adored their daughter Lily, and had been completely fine with magic. And if one was to believe her, even Hermione Granger's parents were the same.

"We have been observing this for thousands of years. Over the last fifteen hundred years, the tides have not been in your favour. Muggles have grown in size exponentially! They outnumber wizards twenty-to-one. More, if their population is bigger than we anticipated. Their era is coming to an end, Lord Potter. That's why such prophecies that hail you as the saviour of magic exist in the cultures of so many magical species. The Muggles are destroying the planet. It was foretold that you would restore balance."

Harry was breathing deeply. "Please excuse me, Your Highness. Master, may I please speak with you in private?"

Nicolas nodded. Bowing to the Queen, the two of them left.

"General Lestrange, I think you might want to speak to our military chief. Lady Potter, there is something Perenelle and I would like to show you. Please follow me."

Daphne and Dylan looked at each other in surprise. Each grabbing the other's hand protectively, they followed the Queen who led them deeper into the palace.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry sat on the ground, taking deep breaths. He hadn't felt this agitated in a long time. His master calmly sat next to him, waiting expectantly.

"Was all that true?"

"What would the Queen achieve by lying to you, Harry?"

"But Master! Complete separation is fine, but the moment we interfere in their affairs, it will most definitely lead to war! War is what we're trying to avoid!"

Nicolas smiled faintly. "How is it interference when we're trying to save the planet from destroying itself? War is the only option available to us."

"No Master, it's not," Harry shot back. "I agree that we should be prepared for such an event, but I will _not_ take any action that could have real consequences."

"Muggles sealed their fate when they built so many nuclear weapons. You read their news regularly. Don't you honestly believe that it'll happen sooner or later?"

"Oh, come on, Master! Even Muggles are not that stupid to use those weapons again!"

"They are conditioned to hate magic. Remember that. Such hatred shall overrule all morality and logic. We will defend ourselves, _chela_. But should they use those weapons, it'll be their doom. I'm not saying that they should be completely exterminated; I'm not Mother Magic to decide their fate. As long as they stop destroying the planet, they can continue to live their lives as they wish."

"Environmental pollution?" asked Harry sharply.

"Do you even know what their pollution is doing to the planet, Harry? How many animals have they hunted to extinction? I'm not saying animals shouldn't be hunted. We do need food to live. The ecosystem has to be kept in balance. But hunted to _extinction?_ Just for sport? That's a trait that was recently seen in wizards a few hundred years ago. Thankfully, your people were quick to stamp out such rubbish and such thoughts disappeared from their minds before it could change wizarding culture. The Muggles have destroyed the forests, destroyed the soil and destroyed the rivers. You've lived in Inbu-Hedj for a long time. How wide is the Nile River? Do you know how wide it was one thousand years ago? Rivers are considered sacred by all magical cultures, used in several magical rituals. How else would you witches and wizards celebrate your solstice festivals, _hmm_? Tell me rivers drying up and being polluted doesn't make your blood boil!"

" _Terkum_ has been the home of the Elves for one hundred thousand years. A huge part of it disappeared at the end of the ice age. But you know what? Sheets of ice in _Terkum_ and _Udichum_ are melting! All due to their environmental pollution! And the Muggles are not willing to do anything about it. In fact, they're increasing the levels of pollution day by day! We know what will happen should sea levels rise drastically. Tsunamis will swallow our landmass. Mass-extinction!"

"Summers are getting hotter, winters are getting colder. Their problems are _our_ problems, _chela_ , because we live on the same planet! The Earth does not belong to them alone! Why should the rest of us suffer because of their arrogance? Yes, they were cursed. Yes, they too were once wizards. But right now, they are forcing nature to destroy all life. Begin from scratch. It's not something to be concerned about from the universe's point of view. A few species die. Not a big deal. Give the planet a couple of million years, and new species are born. It's a cycle. However, nature is not cruel. We have been gifted with sentience so that we can think and act. Mother Magic warns us through prophecies so that we can save ourselves. If we ignore the will of magic, then there's no hope of saving our people. The entire magical world is united in this cause. We can't let all life on the planet be destroyed! Our way of life is at risk, all because of their selfishness. Believe me, we've masqueraded as Muggles and tried reasoning with them, but it doesn't work."

"They just don't care! The planet just can't support their population anymore. They've destroyed so many natural resources that it'll take a long time for us to correct the damage! Rains are not frequent, droughts are more common, and the number of natural disasters is increasing. That's nature's way of trying to curb their activities, but they still don't listen! Worst of all, these idiots are destroying the atmosphere! I don't know about you, Harry, but I don't want to live in a magically conjured bubble, just to breathe oxygen!"

"Didn't you see the Elvin citizens of _Terkum_ welcome you? They all believe in you, Harry! They all trust you to save their lives! Are you going to turn your back on them?"

Harry remained silent for several minutes. He closed his eyes and meditated. The voice in the back of his head began whispering again. He listened to it, argued with it, but there was no doubt about it – the Queen and his master were correct. The voice of the Deathly Hallows was telling him that. And he knew from past experience that the voice did not lie.

But he was still not convinced.

No matter what Nicolas Flamel or Luna Lovegood might say to convince him, Harry didn't want war. The whole point of achieving complete secrecy was so that conflict with the Muggles could be avoided.

"Give me some time, Master," said Harry quietly. "I need to think about this."

Nicolas smiled sadly as he watched his apprentice walk away. The poor boy carried the burden of the deeds of their ancestors. He knew that war was imminent. There were signs all around them. Various magical and non-magical animals had sensed it and were moving deeper and deeper into the forests; or what was left of forests, anyway.

"Ignoring the warnings of nature will never do you good, my child," whispered Nicolas grimly. "It always comes at a cost. I was trying to help you realise that before the truth is forced upon you. I didn't want to see you in pain. You are destined for greatness, but greatness comes at a cost of personal suffering. Correct your mistakes before destiny takes a different course of action to make you see the light."

Taking a deep breath, Nicolas returned to the royal palace.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _London, England_**

"The Muggle Prime Minister has agreed, my Lady," said the painting, "but I'm afraid he's insisting on meeting only Minister Black and the Supreme Chancellor."

"They're not in the country at the moment, so we'll have to do," replied Amelia. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, Algernon Croaker stepped into the Floo in her office and disappeared in a flash of green flames. She stepped into the fireplace too. Amelia frowned when she felt something strange. After a moment of carefully looking at her surroundings, she shrugged. There was no other disturbance. It was probably nothing. Throwing the powder at her feet, she too was engulfed by green flames.

She stepped into the Prime Minister's office at Number 10. Suddenly, her senses were on alert and with a flick of her wand, the Notice-Me-Not charm came unravelled, revealing a sheepish looking James Potter.

"Jamie, what are you doing here?" Amelia cried. "How did you –"

"I cast a runic array on my clothes using Parseltongue that masked my presence," James said smugly. "As for why I'm here … I wanted to listen to you yell at that Muggle!"

She blinked her eyes and groaned.

Meanwhile, Croaker was looking around the room. He frowned. "Why isn't the Prime Minister here? _Homenum Revelio!"_

His eyes widened. "Amelia, there is no one in the building. We're the only ones here!"

"I sense a Confundus Charm on the portrait," Amelia said quickly, her pulse picking up pace. There was a shimmer of magic around them.

"Someone has erected strong Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards!"

"The Floo has been blocked too. House-elves, blocked. We've walked into a trap!"

Croaker paused as he cast more detection spells. "What in Merlin's name?" he exclaimed. "There are high levels of chaotic magic in the air. Is there another Obscurial here?"

James watched with wide eyes as his mother's boss and grandmother waved their wands in fluid movements. He frowned when he heard something.

"What's that beeping sound?"

Croaker's face turned milk-white due to panic. With a cry and a violent slash of his wand, he broke through the Anti-Portkey wards. Amelia was just as quick to react as she pointed her wand at James.

 _"_ _Protego Integrum!"_

A full-body shied appeared around James' body. Grabbing him and Croaker, she activated her emergency Portkey when –

 _BOOM!_

Police sirens could be heard everywhere as the city of London was put on high alert.

The Prime Minister's residence had been bombed. It was reduced to dust. Within minutes, speculation began. Unrest in the Muggle world had just increased drastically.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _The Atrium, Ministerial complex, Camelot_**

Samuel Knight sighed as he scanned the wand of another visitor. "Here you go ma'am," he said, handing the instrument back to her. Once she had left, he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"I hate slow days," he muttered to himself.

The Atrium was practically deserted. Only a few people could be seen milling about in the large room. Just when he was about to head to the bathroom, he heard something strange _._

He frowned and moved to investigate. Just as he turned, Samuel felt like throwing up. The scene in front of him was gory. He immediately flicked his wand at them; one of them was dead, the other two were alive, but only just. His eyes widened when he recognised the features on the blood-covered face. Reacting on instinct, knowing that time was of the essence, he acted, recalling the training every Ministry employee had to undergo before moving to Camelot.

A jet of red light flew from his wand and impacted the ceiling of the Atrium as he shouted, " _Red Alert_! Aurors to the Atrium!"

There was a pause as an enchantment washed over the room, trying to verify if there was indeed an emergency. Within seconds, an alarm sounded and the lights turned red throughout the Ministry as Aurors Apparated at the scene, with wands drawn.

Senior Auror Nymphadora Tonks scanned the three bodies. Her violet eyes widened with panic.

"Get them to Morgana's, quickly!" she barked orders.

"Yes ma'am!"

Her first instinct was to go after them, but Tonks knew that there was more to be done. She rushed to her boss' office. Kingsley Shacklebolt was thankfully present.

"Sir, we have a problem," Tonks said hurriedly. "Admiral Croaker, Director Black and James Potter have been attacked."

Two minutes later, after having been informed of the situation, Kingsley clenched and unclenched his fists. "Send a message to Minister Black," he ordered. "Unfortunately, the Supreme Chancellor is out of communications range. So are Lady Potter and General Lestrange. Tonks, take a team to the Muggle world. Find out everything you can about this attack. I want to know who is responsible for this!"

"Yes sir!"

Kingsley tapped his wand on the desk. The wood melted away to reveal a cavity inside. A metal plate slowly ascended to the surface. Tapping the runes quickly, Kingsley announced, "Maintain red alert. LOCKDOWN – configuration _Alpha 4-7!_ "

Various protective enchantments in the Ministerial sector took effect as he shut the block into a fortress. Other wards activated around the perimeter of Camelot, Godric's Hollow and Hogsmeade.

The country of Avalon was closed to everyone. No one could escape or leave without his permission.

This was more than just an attack on their government bureaucrats … this was an attack on the I.C.W. itself. Once he issued orders to the Aurors, Hit-Wizards and to the members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, Kingsley grabbed his communication mirror. With Croaker dead and Daphne Potter not available, he had to contact the next in command, for the Department of Mysteries had to be informed.

"Padma Patil."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Terkum_**

"What do you think?" asked Harry softly. "Have we become so dependent on others that we lost the ability to think for ourselves?"

They were standing at the edge of a glacier, overlooking the crystalline waters of the southern ocean.

"Listening to learned people is not a crime," replied Daphne. "Besides, he _is_ your Master."

"I know. But that doesn't mean he's always right. I understand that Muggles are destroying the environment and all, but he, Lady Perenelle and the Queen seem to be in a one-track mind. They're convinced beyond belief that a war cannot be avoided."

"Unlike us, they've been preparing for this moment for centuries, Harry," Daphne pointed out. "After you left, I had more time to talk to the Queen. It seems the Elves were not quiet when they realised that Muggle technology was harming the planet. Just like they masqueraded as wizards, they also masqueraded as Muggles. Unfortunately, even with magic, they were not able to get into high enough places to implement drastic changes, but they did manage to create awareness."

"Yes," nodded Harry. "The Muggles have been talking a lot about saving the environment. I could gather as much from reading their newspapers. If what you're saying is true, then the Elves were behind it. Unfortunately, their actions are not enough; not by a long shot. I understand that. But if we interfere in the Muggle world, it would not be handled well, which again would lead to war. We wouldn't like it if the Muggles interfered in our affairs; wouldn't that make us hypocrites?"

"The Elves believe that since all possible measures of peaceful negotiations proved to be useless, forcefully making the Muggles stop destroying the environment is the only way to save the planet."

Harry remained silent. Conjuring a stone, he tossed it in the water. He exhaled. "What else?"

"Well, I found a way to enhance _Operation 24_. The Elves have an alchemical potion known as the Elixir of Life and –"

"Wait, you mean the same elixir that was supposed to be produced by the fake Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes, only this elixir does not grant immortality. Elvin technology may not be war-based, Harry, but they're quite advanced. The elixir works on the fundamental principle of rejuvenation. In primary school, I was taught that our magic keeps the vital functions in our body active."

"Yes, I remember learning that too," nodded Harry.

"This elixir won't improve your magical abilities, but once you drink it, it cleanses the magic present in your body. To the body, it's like replacing an old heart or diseased blood with a new heart and purified blood. In simple terms, it will make sure that you don't age for a certain amount of time. It's not immortality; it just keeps you healthier than normal. Apparently, once they reach their magical maturity, all Elves are given this elixir so that they can live healthy, productive lives."

"Incredible!" exclaimed Harry. "How long does this last?"

"Around fifty to sixty years, maybe more," shrugged Daphne. "If we do go ahead with Operation 24, we don't have to worry about ageing. That's an advantage."

Harry hummed. "So, what do you think we should do?"

"Look, we're not sitting idle, Harry," said Daphne. "Instead of simply preparing for war, maybe we can work on fixing the damage inflicted on the planet."

"If that happens, the Muggles will never realise what their actions have led to. They'll simply cause more pollution, destroy more rivers and forests, not to mention the atmosphere. Maybe we can simply place their oil reserves under a Fidelius Charm."

"It won't work. They'll simply destroy more forests and oceans to get their hands on oil. Let's talk practically. In case we do step in, do you think the Muggles will listen to us?"

Harry snorted. "Doubtful. Impossible, even."

"Maybe not," frowned Daphne. "But we should try for a peaceful solution before attempting to –"

She was interrupted by a screeching sound. A vortex opened above them and a large black creature the size of a thunderbird appeared along with a human male.

"Chāyā?" Harry exclaimed, surprised to see the royal phoenix in _Terkum_. "What is it, girl?"

"Harry, she's agitated," said Dylan who was sitting on the phoenix's back. "I think she wants us to leave immediately. Maybe something is wrong."

 _"_ _Expecto Patronum!"_

An ethereal silver tigress burst from the tip of Daphne's finger and flew off into the distance. "It's a message to the Queen, informing her that we're leaving due to an unexpected emergency … whatever it is."

"Good idea," muttered Harry. "Grab hold of her."

With another screech, the Royal Phoenix disappeared as if sucked into a vortex of space.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Morgana's Hospital for Magical Care, Camelot_**

"Your daughter is perfectly healthy, Lady Lestrange," said the Healer, smiling. "You can come back for a check-up in four weeks."

"Thank you, Healer Anderson," Astoria nodded, gently picking up her daughter in her arms, rocking her to sleep.

"She's so cute," Belladonna gushed from beside her aunt.

"Yeah, and she'll probably be a better sister than you," teased Charlie.

Before she could reply to that comment, the sound of sirens suddenly rent the air in the peaceful city of Camelot.

"What's that?" exclaimed Belladonna.

"Caterwauling charm; a red alert has been sounded," whispered Astoria worriedly. "Are we under attack?"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"MOVE!" shouted the Chief Healer of Morgana's Hospital. "Get them all inside, quickly!"

The injured bodies of Amelia Black and James Potter were rushed into separate healing rooms.

"She's lost both her legs. Her internal injuries are severe and she's losing blood fast. Blood-replenishing potion, four doses, now!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Sirius Black was frantic with worry. He had hurriedly Portkeyed to Avalon the moment he was informed that Amelia, Croaker and James had been attacked. Rushing towards the Head Auror's office, he demanded, "Kingsley, what happened?"

"The Muggle Prime Minister of Britain demanded a meeting with you and the Chancellor, Minister," said Kingsley. "I'm not sure why Amelia and Croaker decided to attend the meeting on your behalf, but it turned out to be a trap. They managed to escape but …"

He paused when he saw the panicked and grief-stricken look on the Minister's face. "Croaker was declared dead on arrival," he said quietly. "Amelia and James were taken to Morgana's Hospital and are currently being healed. I haven't received any updates yet."

"Who is responsible for this?" hissed Sirius. "Are you sure it wasn't an accident?"

"A post-mortem was performed on Admiral Croaker," said Kingsley. "We were able to extract his memories moments before he died. They're distorted, but one thing is clear – this was no accident. It was deliberate and it was a trap set for you and the Supreme Chancellor. I've sent Aurors to London to determine if –"

Sirius didn't hear the rest. His legs were shaking and grey eyes filled with tears. The fifty-three-year-old man grabbed a nearby chair to steady himself as he took deep breaths.

"I'm going to the hospital," he rasped out. "I need to see my wife. Send one of your Aurors to Hogwarts. Rigel needs to be here."

"Yes, Minister," Kingsley nodded. He barked orders to his subordinates who escorted the distraught Minister of Magic out of the room.

Kingsley buried his face in his hands. He too was trembling due to rage. Was someone in the magical world responsible for this? Or were the Muggles the only ones involved in this attack? He had to find out.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Morgana's Hospital for Magical Care_**

James Potter was badly wounded. Had his grandmother not reacted instantly and cast a shield around his body, he would be dead, much like Algernon Croaker. However, the simple shield was still no match for the destructive bomb. While his limbs were all intact, his internal organs were a different matter. Unfortunately, since he was a child, his body didn't have the energy to fight it.

A team of three Healers were working on the boy. Suddenly, all their wands glowed red. In healing magic, should the scanning spell make the tip of the wand glow red, it meant death. The Healers did not panic. Various magical healing instruments kept making soft noises in the background.

"His heart has stopped beating. Cast the shock spell on my mark."

"Aye."

"Now!"

James' body spasmed but the magical computer still showed no heartbeat. The wand tips continued to glow red.

"Again!"

The boy spasmed but the result was the same.

"Again!"

"No change."

"Again!"

"Sir!"

"Don't question me; again!"

The tips of their wand glowed white and the computer showed signs of active heartbeat in the patient. The three Healers mentally breathed a sigh of relief, but their job was far from over.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

A vortex opened in the middle of the street in Camelot. Harry, Daphne and Dylan landed on their feet. Only now that they were close did Harry and Daphne recognise the family bond they shared with their blood. Their lockets were glowing a deep shade of red.

"James!" breathed Daphne in panic as she rushed into the hospital, with her husband and brother-in-law hot on her tail.

"Out of my way!" snapped a Healer as he pushed past them, rushing into another healing room. Keeping his mind calm, Dylan stopped at the reception.

"Has James Potter been admitted to his hospital?"

The receptionist grimaced when she recognised the man. "Director Black, Head Unspeakable Croaker and James Potter were attacked, Lord Lestrange. According to reports coming from the Ministry, they were attacked by Muggles. Mr Croaker was declared dead on arrival. Lady Black and Mr Potter are in Healing Rooms 7 and 9. They've been here for nearly an hour now."

On the first floor, Harry and Daphne spotted Sirius Black sitting in a chair outside Healing Room 7, crying silently, with Astoria and the kids trying to console him.

"Mum, Dad!" Belladonna cried. She and her brother immediately rushed into their mother's arms who hugged them tightly.

"Dad, what happened?" Harry demanded.

"Amelia, Algernon and James seemed to have gone to meet the Muggle Prime Minister," said Sirius bitterly, tears flowing down his cheeks. "It looks like that bastard set up a trap for you and me, Harry. From what I've been told, he specifically asked for both of us. Since we were not available, he – he – Algernon is dead. Amelia and Jamie are still inside the healing rooms. What if – what if –"

"Don't say things like that," Astoria said firmly. "They're going to be just fine!"

"Tori, can you please stay with him?" requested Harry quietly. "I don't want him to be alone. I'll tell Dylan to join you."

"Don't worry, Harry, I'm not leaving him," she replied. "Athena is with my mother downstairs. I'll take care of him."

"Thank you."

Grabbing his wife's wrist, Harry marched to Healing Room 9 at the end of the corridor. Charlie and Belladonna were worried. They had never seen their parents this angry before.

Daphne looked crazed. She kept mumbling incoherently as magic sizzled around her body, ready to explode. Harry, on the other hand, was calm, _very_ calm, which was when things got dangerous. His eyes slowly turned from emerald green to impossibly jet black.

Seeing that his wife was too shaken up and about to enter the Healing Room, Harry grabbed her roughly by the shoulders.

"Daphne, you have to calm down!" he hissed, "or your magic could destroy the building! Do you want to kill everyone at the hospital?"

"Right now I don't care about anyone but my son!" she snapped back. "Get out of my way, Harry, before I _make_ you!"

"Charlie and Belladonna are here too!" he said quietly. "Should you lose control, you could hurt them. Do you really want that?"

Her body trembled and Daphne struggled to get her wild emotions under control. Harry grabbed her in a hug, using their bond to calm her down further. They sat in silence for five minutes, not knowing what was going on.

"Dad, do you think Jamie will be fine?" asked Charlie. The normally stoic boy was reduced to tears.

"I'm sure the Healers will do their best," whispered Harry, hugging his son tightly. He couldn't help it. His body trembled as warm tears fell from his eyes and into his son's neck.

"Daddy, don't cry," Charlie croaked out. Harry didn't feel comforted. He continued to shed silent tears on his son's shoulder.

"Mum, Jamie will be fine, I know it!" said Belladonna, hoping for any reaction from her mother.

Unfortunately, Daphne was still as a statue, her gaze unfocused, blue orbs blazing with anger and pain.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: This chapter is what I had planned on writing since I began 'Lightning Lord'. As you can see, it has less to do with Harry Potter and more to do with our situation today. I know that many don't believe in climate change and you're entitled to your own opinion. That doesn't change mine, though. I'm not sure how my readers would react to this chapter and I know that I might get hateful reviews, but I've realised that reading something that hits close to home makes one more defensive than watching a movie where a weapon destroys entire planets._**

 ** _Either way, this is something I've always wanted to write about and I've finally done it. It gives me hope that if we all spread the message and work together, we can make a difference, however small it may be._**

 ** _Just think of it this way ... if you're sharing your home with ten other people and half of them were destroying it due to their activities, what would you do? Just let it go or take action? That's what this magic-muggle war is about._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	55. Costly Mistakes

**_Chapter 55_**

 ** _Costly Mistakes_**

"Minister?"

Sirius' head snapped up. Dylan and Astoria looked at each other worriedly. The Healer's face was devoid of expression.

"Sir, Lady Black was in a terrible condition when she was brought to the hospital," she said. "Apart from losing limbs, her internal organs also suffered massive damage. When we were in the process of healing her, we discovered that the area of the bombing had been poisoned with chaotic magic. It interfered with our attempts to heal her."

Tears flowed down Sirius' face as he held Dylan's arm tightly.

The Healer took a deep breath. "I'm afraid we couldn't save her."

Dylan felt his eyes moisten as his father cried heartbreakingly. He closed his eyes and desperately tried to remember the good times he had with the only woman who had ever shown him the warmth of a mother's hug. The woman who had adopted him as her son despite knowing whose child he was; the one who had selflessly provided _him_ , the orphaned son of a sworn enemy, a home, and loved him as her own.

And that woman, his beloved mother, was now _dead?_

The floor and walls began to tremble slightly. The grey eyes were glowing, burning with anger. The windows in the corridor cracked due to his rage and the Healer actually swallowed in nervousness as she witnessed Dylan's raw power. He looked furious.

A soft touch brought him to the present. Astoria intertwined their fingers and whispered softly to her husband, "Please calm down. Not here, not now … _please_ …"

Dylan took deep breaths in order to reign in his anger. He couldn't lose control; not unless he wanted to destroy the building.

"I want to see her."

"Minister, I –"

"I want to see my wife," Sirius said forcefully. The Healer nodded reluctantly. She ushered them inside.

Amelia's body was covered by a white sheet, but her face was visible. Sirius gently touched her pale face, shaking due to the sobs that were threatening to come out. Dylan conjured a chair for his father, who collapsed, holding his wife and crying.

"Dad?"

The group turned towards the door to see the panicked face of the fifteen-year-old Rigel Black. The teenager immediately rushed towards his father.

Dylan and Astoria quietly left the room. The Blacks deserved their privacy.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"What?" asked Harry, shocked beyond belief.

"G-Grandma's dead?" whispered Belladonna.

"Dylan, what are saying?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Dylan said, his red-rimmed eyes filled with tears. "Apparently, the site was contaminated with chaotic magic. She was already very badly wounded and it interfered with their healing magic. There was nothing they could do."

"Oh, Merlin, what torture is this?" moaned Daphne, burying her face in her hands. If Amelia couldn't survive the experience, what chance did her eight-year-old son have?

The door to Healing Room 9 opened and the Healer walked out. Harry and Daphne stood up immediately.

"How is he?" asked Daphne immediately.

The Healer paused. "Your son is alive, Lady Potter. We found traces of a full-body shield when he was brought to us. I suspect either Lady Black or Mr Croaker cast it on him before they escaped. Without that shield, he wouldn't have survived."

"Thank you," whispered Daphne under her breath, hoping her message was conveyed to the souls of Amelia and Croaker.

"Unfortunately, not everything is good news. While his limbs were all intact, the shield was still not enough to save him from the effects of the bomb. Some of the debris managed to penetrate a few vital organs. We healed him in time, but during the procedure, we realised that he was infected with chaotic magic."

Harry and Dylan looked at each other. Their eyes narrowed.

"The chaotic magic interfered with the healing process," said the Healer. He paused. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency, but your son is in a coma."

"Is there a chance that he'll wake up?" asked Astoria.

"It's possible," the Healer nodded, though somewhat reluctantly. "If all traces of the chaotic magic leave his system, he may wake up. But we don't know how deep the infection is. Chaotic magic is referred to as chaotic for a reason. It's very unpredictable."

"Can we see him?"

"Of course."

They were guided into the healing room. James was lying on a bed. To the naked eye, he looked perfectly fine, but the moment Daphne sensed his magic, she knew that her son was not fine at all. Sitting down on the bed, she gently picked up his hand and brought it to her lips.

"Jamie, it's me," whispered Daphne, her voice cracking. "Won't you open your eyes for Mummy?"

"Daphne," Astoria said slowly but couldn't form the words to continue. She had never seen her sister this distraught before. Simply speaking to James would not get him to wake up, but Daphne did not seem to be in any state to listen to reason.

Charlie and Belladonna buried their faces in their father's chest, crying silently. A lone tear slid down Harry's expressionless face as he watched his wife fall apart.

 _The five-year-old boy shook his head. "Uh-uh! If I go to Hogwarts, then I'll have to leave you! And I'll never leave you and Daddy. I'll be with you forever and ever!"_

"Jamie, you promised us that you'll be with us forever!" Daphne sobbed. "Come on, Jamie, please wake up!"

He didn't respond.

The blue orbs turned white. They were glowing ominously. Her breathing was ragged. Daphne gritted her teeth and balled her fists.

"I need to get out of here," she said quietly.

"Mum," said Charlie worriedly. "Mum, don't leave!"

A smile found its way to Daphne's lips, but the smile did not look happy. She gently ran her fingers through her oldest son's hair.

"Don't worry, Charlie. I'll be back before you know it."

Once she made her way out, a hand grabbed her wrist.

"Harry, leave me alone. If you don't let me go, I can't guarantee the state of this city, let alone the building."

"I'm not going to stop you," he said, his voice very soft, his breathing calm and even.

Harry hadn't felt this furious since the day Daphne and Dylan had been kidnapped during the Battle of Hogsmeade. He had lost his mother, and his beloved son was in a coma that he may never recover from. He felt something he hadn't felt since Voldemort's death.

 _Blood-lust._

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join me."

Daphne turned towards her husband. "The Muggle Prime Minister was involved," she said, her voice hard. "I can _feel_ it. But chaotic magic is not something Muggles have in storage, is it?"

"I'll find out who is responsible for this," he promised.

Harry watched as she disappeared down the flight of stairs. Returning to the room, he gently kissed James' forehead, instructed the twins to stay with their aunt, and walked out of the hospital with Dylan by his side.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Report!"

"We've been keeping an eye on various top Ministry employees who might have been involved, Chancellor," said Kingsley. "As for what we've found out, the Unspeakables revealed that Admiral Croaker was investigating the possibility of the Muggle Prime Minister being involved in the information leak about the magical world through their internet."

"Of course," Dylan said through gritted teeth. "Why didn't we consider that possibility?"

"The Prime Minister is not my concern at the moment. Based on what I've been informed, this incident definitely had magical involvement," said Harry.

He sat down and closed his eyes, thinking hard. Harry knew in his gut who was involved, but he needed proof before confronting the man, the linchpin, the mastermind behind this attack. The bomb was Muggle, but what was the epicentre of the _magical_ attack?

Harry's eyes snapped open. "Do you have samples of the chaotic magic that was present in the area of the attack?"

"Yes, sir," nodded Kingsley.

"What are you thinking?" asked Dylan curiously.

Harry didn't answer. Instead, with a wave of his hand, he summoned various alchemical instruments. He worked silently for more than twenty minutes. Finally, a thin sheet of glass, his computer, glowed as it displayed the map of Britain. Using the chaotic magical signature, he had created a compass, leading to a place in Scotland. However, the coordinates were all over the place; powerful wards prevented him from getting the precise location.

"Dylan," Harry said, motioning him to come closer. "I want you to leave for Sowilo City as soon as possible. Tell Padma to begin the initial stages of Operation 24."

"Understood," nodded Dylan. "Do you want me to contact everyone?"

Harry paused, thinking hard. "Yes. Also, inform my secretary to convene an emergency session of the I.C.W. Send envoys to the Elves, Goblins, Centaurs, Merpeople, Veela and Vampires. The shockwaves of this attack will be massive. We have to be ready."

"I'll have it done."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Damn it!" cursed Ivan Krum. "It didn't work."

Percy Weasley was shell-shocked. _This_ was what Krum and the Prime Minister had planned?

"He escaped, sir?" demanded Hermione. " _How?_ "

"Mr Krum," Percy said shakily. "A bomb?"

"Yes, a bomb," snapped Krum. "According to the _Magical Daily News_ , Algernon Croaker, Amelia Black and James Potter were caught in the blast instead."

"You mean Potter's youngest son was there too?" exclaimed Percy. He swallowed. His stomach was churning. Something in his gut was telling him that this would not end well.

Krum didn't respond. He took deep breaths. "I was hoping that this plan would be enough to end Potter's reign, but apparently, he is luckier than I thought. We'll have to use the time-turners and go through with our original plan."

"Sir," said Hermione hesitantly. "We need to do it soon."

"I know," Krum said curtly. "With his son now injured or perhaps dead, Potter will take his ire out on the Muggles. We don't have time."

Percy was conflicted. This was not what he had signed up for. He seemed to be regretting ever getting involved with Ivan Krum. The man was a hypocrite. He claimed that he was protecting the Muggles, yet he orchestrated an incident that probably brought more instability to the already volatile Muggle world. He claimed that he was doing his best for the people of the magical world, yet his interaction with the Prime Minister went against the International Statute of Secrecy, their most sacred law.

Next, the man was advocating time-travel, something that was very strictly controlled by the Department of Mysteries and was illegal without their consent. Someone who broke the laws of time would be sent to prison for life, for any damage to the timeline could be catastrophic. They were breaking yet another law by going back in time. There was also a law that forbade the charming of Muggle objects. His late father had worked in that office for several years, and yet, here he was, supporting a man who wanted to charm all the military equipment of the Muggles in order to stop Potter.

Krum was blatantly violating the Statute of Secrecy again. Who knows what Muggles could do with such power?

Worst of all, Krum's attack had led to the deaths of two of the most highly renowned and respected witches and wizards, and probably the death of a poor child as well! How could Krum and Hermione claim to be better than Potter if they did _this_?

They were here to stop the rise of a very powerful Dark Lord, but at the same time, were Krum and Hermione not bothered that an innocent child could be _dead_ right now because of their scheming?

For the first time, Percy felt like a fool. He swallowed. Always, throughout his life, he had been sticking to the rules, always following the law diligently. But recently, due to his involvement with Ivan Krum, he had committed acts that he promised himself that he wouldn't do; in other words, he had shamelessly broken the law. His father would be ashamed of him.

The thought of him causing the death of an innocent child due to his actions was too much to handle. Even worse was the fact that the man he had until now idolised didn't seem to bat an eye. His wife didn't either, even though she claimed that she was doing this for magical children.

Didn't James Harrison Potter fall under the category of magical children as well? When did their noble cause turn into _this?_ Children were considered as the gift bestowed upon them by Mother Magic and yet, they were not bothered that their actions caused the death of an innocent child?

Would Krum react the same way if _his_ son or daughter were killed in the same manner? Would Hermione?

Percy made up his mind. Everything was not lost. He would have to leave and inform Minister Black of what they were planning. He had been hearing things only from Krum's perspective; maybe Potter did not want a war with the Muggles. Maybe he was just being a cautious, yet misguided leader. But one thing was clear; he would not give up his values in order to work under Krum any longer.

"Hermione, I need you to go protect the Prime Minister," said Krum. "Once the dust clears, gather the members of _Dumbledore's Army_ and prepare for our jump through time. I'm afraid Potter's retaliation will be quicker than we originally planned for."

"What about you, sir?" asked Hermione.

"Percy and I will join you shortly. Don't worry. Now off you go."

Hermione nodded. Kissing her husband's cheek, she left the cottage. Once they were alone, Krum drew his wand and within a second, bound the younger wizard.

"What are you doing?" cried Percy. Krum didn't answer. He flicked his wand once more, summoning a small bottle containing Veritaserum. He forced Percy's mouth open and poured three drops on the latter's tongue. After interrogating him, he sneered.

"I thought so. Don't take me for a fool, Percy. I could read your facial expressions and realised immediately that you were having second thoughts about this. That's why I interrogated you. You think Potter may not be as bad as you originally thought; you're feeling guilty, and you're trying to bury that guilt by blaming me. So you want to go inform Sirius Black of what we're planning, huh?"

"Let me go," Percy said fearfully. He struggled, but there was nothing he could do. He was bound.

"Hermione is like a daughter to me. I know that she'll be devastated should anything happen to you. Unfortunately, the fate of the world rests on my shoulders. I can't take the risk that you'll reveal all my secrets to Harry Potter."

Percy's face was white as a sheet. "You're going to kill me?" he whispered.

"No," Krum said, shaking his head. "I'm not a monster, Percy. I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but I'm afraid my actions are necessary for the protection of wizards and Muggles alike."

"Necessary for the protection of wizards and Muggles?" spat Percy. "You mean for the _greater good?_ "

Krum's expression hardened as he pointed his wand at Percy's forehead. The ginger swallowed in fear.

" _Obliviate!_ "

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"A Fidelius Charm," muttered Harry. His eye twitched in annoyance. If there was an enchantment he truly hated with a passion, it was the Fidelius; a truly pesky ward that could avoid detection.

The enchantment was quite complex, with only the Secret Keeper being able to reveal the location of the premises. However, what made the Fidelius Charm quite unpopular was the many loopholes it offered. Harry had thoroughly studied everything about the charm more than a decade back, when Voldemort had placed Riddle Manor under the Fidelius.

For any enchantment to protect a magical house, one needed a wardstone. This, however, could be avoided if _Varasma_ was substituted for the granite stone. Unfortunately for Ivan Krum, his cottage was powered by conventional magical technology. Equally unfortunate was the fact that his enemy was the Master of Death himself.

Closing his eyes, Harry brought his hands together. A concentration of magic slowly formed between his palms, creating a small sphere of golden energy. With a cry, he threw the sphere at the ground.

Back inside the cottage, Ivan Krum had just Obliviated Percy Weasley when he felt the ground tremble. He held a nearby chair for support, wondering if it was an earthquake. His eyes widened with panic as the floor beneath him cracked open. The granite wardstone exploded, the shards flying across the room.

The Fidelius Charm had come unravelled.

He immediately rushed towards the window in order to see what was going on. Krum gritted his teeth in anger. Even in the moonlight, he could recognise the stiff and erect posture of Harry Potter. The Supreme Chancellor was unmoving, his cloak billowing in the wind.

"Not today, Potter," whispered Krum. He turned on the spot in order to Disapparate but found the air to be quite solid. He frowned. He touched his Portkey, but that too didn't activate.

"You can't escape, Krum," said Harry, his voice magically enhanced. "If you have done nothing wrong, then why are you so eager to leave?"

Krum said nothing. He swiftly moved towards the door, throwing all sorts of protective enchantments that he hoped would save him from Potter's wrath. He didn't respond to any of Potter's comments, though. The younger man was doing it on purpose to get a reaction out of him. Krum wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Harry leisurely walked towards the house. "What's the point in erecting wards that I can break with ease?" he commented lightly. "I destroyed your Fidelius with one shot. Do you think I'm not capable of vaporising this cottage in an instant?"

" _Salvio Hexia … Protego Totalum … Cave Inimicum … Fianto Duri … Protego Horribilis … Protego Maxima …_ "

"You know, I was still unclear of your involvement, even after I tracked the chaotic magical signature to this house," said Harry, not breaking stride even though Krum was erecting all sorts of protective enchantments to keep him out. With a wave of his hand, he disabled them and walked forward as if they were cobwebs. "But if you weren't guilty, then why would you be this hostile? It was _you_ who collaborated with the Muggles. Your actions killed my mother, put my son in a coma that he may never wake up from, and managed to start a conflict between wizards and Muggles!"

"Imbecile," shouted Krum. " _You're_ the one who started the conflict between the two worlds with that barbaric law! All those poor Muggle-born children are suffering because of you."

"No, they aren't," Harry shot back, his eyes jet-black. "I personally ensured that each and every rescued Muggle-born was placed with families who _wanted_ them. Due to your blind hatred towards me, you never realised that the Muggle-borns that were rescued actually _suffered_. Some of them were happy with their Muggle parents, but more than ninety per cent of them were not! I did it to protect my people from the wrath of Muggles. And yet, you couldn't understand that. You're as self-centred and arrogant as Albus Dumbledore, believing that you alone are right and that everyone who doesn't agree with you is wrong. Your actions have destroyed any hope for peace. The moment I realised that you were a threat, I should have disposed of you like I did your master."

Krum's face was writ with anger. Abandoning his efforts to keep Potter out, he walked out of the cottage.

"If that is true, then I will avenge his death," spat Krum.

He slashed his wand in the air. Harry dodged with lightning-fast reflexes. He hadn't even drawn his wand. Colourless spells flew from the tips of his fingers as the Supreme Chancellor and his predecessor duelled each other to the death.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

It was eight p.m. The city of London was in chaos. Number 10, the residence and office and the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, had been bombed. Media outlets reported that the Prime Minister and his family were away during the incident, which was deemed a terrorist attack, and that it was sheer dumb luck that saved them from the catastrophe. The entire world was in a state of shock. Law and order were quickly becoming a problem as thousands of people took to the streets, showing the terrorists that they would not surrender despite an attack on their soil.

Daphne Potter stood in front of the Palace of Westminster, her eyes glowing eerily, completely white in colour. It was a deadly sight, and anyone watching would certainly not call her human. Her shoulders were stiff with tension, with cheeks stained with tears.

She had tracked the Prime Minister here, to the parliament building. Legilimency had its uses. Apparently, there was a legislative session going on, which meant the man would be present. They were all debating on the best possible method to kill her children, no doubt.

She was furious, crazed, while her blood boiled. Her magic screamed for release as her heart broke for her youngest son.

A son that was as good as dead.

How many other magical children had undergone the same thing? How many unknown, nameless, faceless mothers had wept for their dead child during the witch hunts? How many times had wizards given Muggles an opportunity to reform before the Statute of Secrecy was implemented? The memory of the girl who had turned into an Obscurial still haunted Daphne. She had watched helplessly as Ivan Krum's orders were executed, killing the poor girl, just because she had been tortured endlessly by the Muggle Jackson Barebone.

The dark clouds were shaped like a human child. Even nature seemed to share her pain as it created a memorial for her beloved son. Her little James, the apple of her eye, the one everyone loved unconditionally. He was so lovable that in eight years, not once had Charlie and Bella fought with him. While the twins sometimes acted like they shared an enmity as deep as a Basilisk and an Acromantula, they never took it out on James because he was just that lovable.

How could anyone dream of attacking such an innocent soul? The cloud didn't seem to help matters any.

Daphne felt more tears pool in her eyes. The tears quickly turned to anger. After all that they tried to do, this was how they were being repaid? She immediately took off into the air without the help of a broom. She took in the sight before her and glared hatefully. She brought her palms together as her anger reached epic proportions.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"It didn't work?" asked the Prime Minister. "Why not? What went wrong?"

They were in the Prime Minister's official state car, with several other cars and motorbikes part of the motorcade. The security in London had been beefed up because of the attack on Number 10. They were currently on their way to the parliament; the attack had caused a crisis which they had to deal with, lest terrorist organizations take credit for it.

"Apparently, Potter was abroad during the attack," sighed Hermione. "Unspeakable Croaker, Director Black and Potter's youngest son were caught in the blast instead."

"And what's their condition?"

Hermione winced slightly. "From what I could gather, all three of them are dead."

The Prime Minister nodded, though he did seem miffed about something. "Any idea why Sirius Black didn't come to Number 10 as requested?"

The younger woman blinked in surprise. "I didn't know that Minister Black was invited," she replied. "Sir, why would we invite him?"

"No reason," the Prime Minister said evasively. Observing the nervous look on Granger's face, he changed the subject. "So, when is Mr Krum going to begin the next stage of the plan?"

"I have everything ready, sir. We can start tonight."

As they were talking, they heard the patter of raindrops. Within moments, the downpour had slowed down the motorcade.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," grumbled the Prime Minister. "If I didn't know better, I'd blame magic for this too."

Hermione chuckled.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Lightning flashed brightly as torrential rain lashed against the city. Nature seemed to be in-tune with Daphne's fury. It was as if they were both a single entity.

A cube materialised in her hand. It was glowing a luminescent blue from the inside. This was one of her creations – a _Varasma_ -infused _Asthron_ , the most destructive weapon that was currently in the department's arsenal.

"You want to see death so badly?" whispered Daphne hatefully. "Then I'll show you all what death really means!"

With that, Daphne dropped the _Asthron_. She watched with immense satisfaction as the cube impacted the building. There was a blinding flash of blue light as a magical explosion rocked the area around the ancient structure. Waters of the Thames River churned, but the city was unaffected. There was no debris, there was no harmful waste. In fact, there was nothing at the site at all.

There were no two stones on the ground to ever prove that the Palace of Westminster ever existed.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"How do you intend to handle this situation, sir?" asked Hermione

The Prime Minister was about to reply when there was a blinding flash of blue light. The ground seemed to tremble slightly. The motorcade immediately halted due to the spectacle, but they recovered quickly in order to get the Prime Minister to safety.

"What the hell was that?" exclaimed the Prime Minister.

Hermione was slack-jawed. From her window, she could see the barren land by the Thames River where the British parliament once stood.

"Sir," she said shakily, swallowing heavily. "I think Potter is on to us."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm confident no one else would have the courage or the power to destroy the Palace of Westminster."

The Prime Minister's eyes widened. He removed his mobile phone and barked instructions. The car changed course immediately. Police sirens could be heard everywhere, as the city of London was immersed not only in rainwater but also in chaos.

"Hermione, contact Krum immediately. We're going to a secret base for us to conduct operations. Whatever you do, get it done soon! I will not let this Harry Potter destroy my country, do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Prime Minister," whispered Hermione. She removed her communication mirror from her bag and said, "Ivan Krum."

There was no answer.

"Percy Weasley!"

She swallowed.

The Prime Minister snorted. "Welcome to the worst day of my life," he spat bitterly.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Ivan Krum conjured a metallic shield to deflect Harry's spell. The force of the spell impacting the shield was enough to create a gong-like noise. Harry flew high in the air and twisted. He magically scooped up mud from the ground and created golems to attack Krum. The older wizard slashed his wand and decapitated the golems with a fire whip. With a flick of his fingers, Harry conjured a dozen tigers which Krum transfigured into massive boulders that Harry blasted to smithereens. Jets of light flew in all directions.

"These moves, those specific attack manoeuvres … I'd recognise the fighting style of Albus Dumbledore anywhere," observed Harry.

Krum smirked proudly as he conjured a sphere of water in order to trap his enemy. It didn't work as he expected as a tornado destroyed it.

"Very talented you may be in Charms, but Transfiguration is a lot more complex than that," Harry taunted. "Your version is crude and sloppy. Dumbledore would be so disappointed in you."

With a cry of rage, Krum pointed his wand directly at Harry's chest and cried, " _Avada Kedavra!"_

A jet of bright green light flew towards Harry who simply brought his hands forward. Bolts of lightning flew from his fingertips, meeting the Killing Curse mid-way, deflecting it, the lightning bolts impacting the attacking party. Krum screamed in pain as he dropped his wand, withering and moaning on the ground, with no one around for miles to hear or help him.

"You are under arrest, Mr Krum," said Harry calmly. "You have the right to request an attorney to represent you. The Confederation shall judge you for your crimes."

"I thought _you_ were the Confederation, Potter," spat Krum, his entire body trembling. "Are you going to crown yourself the emperor of the magical world? I won't let you!"

Harry smiled grimly. "You delusional old man," he shook his head. "I wonder if you were ever sane enough to be a part of society."

"It's _you_ who shouldn't be a part of the society," said Krum furiously. The former Supreme Mugwump knew that he had lost. However, in order to eventually defeat the man before him, he was determined to take his secrets to the grave, and that meant provoking Potter to a very dangerous extent – and he knew exactly where to strike. Krum's only hope was that Hermione would one day manage to defeat their greatest enemy. With that intention in mind, he spat, "You and that _whore_ you call a wife are a menace! I'm glad that your worthless spawn died, Potter, for the world is now rid of another authoritarian, inhumane monster like you and your filthy, monstrous wife! Once I'm done with you, Daphne Potter and Dylan Lestrange will be tried for their crimes, and I'll ensure that they and your two other children suffer for the rest of their lives, being used by the criminals in jail for their pleasure! That's all a filthy slut like her is worth! As for that blood-thirsty bastard you call a brother, I'll keep him alive just long enough for him to feel every vein in his body being cut until he drowns in his own blood! You'll be forced to listen to your precious baby brother's screams of agony, living with the constant guilt that you were unable to help him! In the end, I'll make sure that you spend decades in a cell, alone, with the memories of what was done to your wife and brother, because that's exactly what a Dark Lord like you deserves!"

The green eyes darkened. Harry stood perfectly still and silent as Krum struggled to reach for his wand. His breathing was calm and even and not a muscle twitched in his body. His magic seemed to be sizzling due to immense anger.

Harry could tolerate any amount of pain or insult directed towards him, but _never_ would he accept anyone insulting his wife or causing her pain. She was more precious to him than the entire universe. Should anything happen to her, he wouldn't hesitate to burn the world down in his anger and grief. She was the one who held him together, the one who was as sacred as Mother Magic herself, the one who had enough compassion in her that the entire universe could reside within her heart. She was divine.

And this man called her, his wife – a woman whom he greatly admired, respected and loved – a whore? A monster? The same man who was the cause of James' suffering and promised to torture Charlie and Belladonna to death?

 _'You'll be forced to listen to your precious baby brother's screams of agony,_ _living with the constant guilt that you were unable to help him …'_

No one said that Harry was rational when it had anything to do with Dylan.

 _Dylan …_

His mind went blank. All he registered was the fact that Daphne and Dylan were threatened. And that was unacceptable. A primal, inexplicable need to protect the two of them over all others, a feeling he could not explain, overtook all other senses.

The control over his emotions slipped.

Unadulterated rage overpowered any rational thought. Just as Ivan Krum reached for his wand, Harry unleashed a flurry of lightning from his fingertips. Shadows from the white lightning bolts could be seen on the ground as the man screamed and withered in pain until he finally stopped moving.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry collapsed on the ground next to Krum's charred body, breathing deeply. As seconds turned to minutes, slowly, his mind cleared, enough for him to realise what he had done. He stared at his hands, wishing that he hadn't lost control. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

He had made a mistake; a very big mistake. He shouldn't have killed Ivan Krum. Apart from the fact that it was against the law, they had lost the opportunity to extract valuable information from his mind. The man's brain was probably destroyed due to the lightning attack. There was no hope of avoiding the war now.

But he had also broken the law, just weeks after advocating that the law applied equally to everyone. A lone tear slid down his cheek.

He had failed as a leader.

He had failed as a husband.

He had failed as a son.

And he had failed as a father.

Most important of all, due to his inability to stop Krum before it became out of control, he had let the conflict between wizards and Muggles rise to epic proportions. The attack on the Prime Minister's residence was only the beginning. With how unstable the Muggle world was, things would quickly spiral out of control.

Harry grabbed a fistful of mud, trying to control his emotions. War was imminent; a war that he, Daphne and Dylan worked so hard to avoid. And it was all his fault for not taking care of the threat sooner. He had failed in protecting his people.

Warm tears fell to the ground.

"Why didn't I trust my instincts?" he whispered. "Why did I let things get out of hand?"

Closing his eyes, he bowed his head, hoping to seek solace from nature. The cool breeze ruffled his hair. For several minutes, he took deep breaths, trying to get his violent magic under control.

When he finally opened his eyes, the orbs as black as the cosmos glinted with determination. He would not fail his people. Not again. He may have failed all the members of his family, starting from James and Lily Potter to Sirius and Amelia Black, to Daphne Potter, and finally his little children, but he couldn't afford to fail the hundreds of millions of magical beings depending on him. The planet itself depended on him for the survival of the magical way of life.

With a rejuvenated sense of momentum, he got up.

It was time to prepare for war.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Morgana's Hospital for Magical Care_**

Daphne Potter gently stroked her son's hair, her eyes red-rimmed. Her face was devoid of emotion. In fact, she didn't know if she was capable of feeling emotion at all. She sat in silence for several minutes when suddenly, there was a familiar screech from above. A vortex opened and a small bird emerged from within its depths.

Chāyā made soft sounds as she butted her head against Daphne's face. Daphne smiled faintly.

"Will you stay with him?" she asked. The royal phoenix trilled mournfully, nodding its head in acknowledgement. Kissing James' forehead, she got off the bed and walked out of the healing room.

"Mum!"

Daphne closed her eyes and exhaled, feeling all the stress melt away as Charlie and Belladonna rushed into her arms. Her eyes, however, didn't swell with tears. She had shed all the tears that she could. She simply stood, resting her chin against their heads.

"Mum, what's going to happen now?" asked Charlie, his voice trembling.

"Is James going to be okay?" Belladonna couldn't help but ask.

Daphne smiled sadly. "I don't know if James is going to be fine," she replied. "But Chāyā is looking after him now. You both have had a long day. Let's head back to the castle. I promise to bring you back here first thing tomorrow morning."

The kids looked ready to protest, but they were too exhausted to argue with their mother. Leading them out of the hospital, Daphne held them tightly and Disapparated.

Potter Castle seemed to be enveloped in darkness due to the recent tragedy. The bright and luxurious surroundings seemed cold and hollow instead. The portraits were all silent as the three of them walked past them on their way to the second floor of the east wing, towards the family bedrooms.

"Mum, don't leave," begged Belladonna. "Stay with us tonight, please!"

"Don't worry, you two," Daphne assured them softly. "If you don't want me to leave, I won't. Come on, it's time for bed."

She silently led them to her bedroom, not willing to let them out of her sight for even a moment. After undressing and tossing their clothes in a nearby hamper, Charlie and Bella immediately jumped on the bed and within moments, were fast asleep in each other's arms. Daphne waved her hand as the blankets moved to cover the twins in order to keep them warm. She looked around. Even the familiar, palatial environment of the master bedroom felt alien to her without James.

But that was not what was bothering her. She walked towards the mirror and stared at her reflection … tall in stature, with the build of a warrior, her long dark-blonde hair held up by a bejewelled tiara as always, a locket with the Peverell crest glinting from around her neck with diamond earrings dangling from her earlobes. Anyone else would see an astonishingly beautiful woman standing before it. But Daphne only saw a monster; a monster who was incapable of controlling her powers and emotions; a monster who did not deserve the title or the powers bestowed upon her by being the Master of Death.

Why couldn't she be like Harry and Dylan? Why had she let her emotions get the best of her?

Daphne had always feared this moment. The first time she lost control, she had threatened Lord Voldemort to his face. Dylan had suffered because of that mistake. The next time, she had let the rogue Unspeakables and Muggles stop her during the Obscurial attack, and with one swift hand motion, she had silenced them all; permanently. A little girl died because of her mistake.

And now, because of her inability to control her emotions better, she had launched an attack; an attack that was not authorized by anyone. Granted, she was now the Head of the Department of Mysteries, but that didn't make it right. In fact, it made it worse because she had failed as a leader this soon.

Slowing removing all her jewellery, with her hair down, Daphne walked towards the balcony. She was consumed with a feeling she never thought would be this painful.

 _Guilt._

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Chāyā trilled mournfully as she tried to get the little boy to wake up. The royal phoenix was still very young, a fledgeling in reality, who had not even gone through its first burning day and hence, she was not fully aware of her powers.

Tears fell from the dark eyes of the phoenix and into the mouth of James Potter. Chāyā also began singing. A phoenix's song was said to have healing properties that were unmatched by any other magical species. As the bird sang, it lifted the spirits of everyone in the hospital.

James' body seemed to twitch slightly. Chāyā suddenly became very still, her dark eyes staring at the young boy's form. She tilted her head in confusion and interest. Understanding filled her mind as she soon began singing.

There was still hope.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Operation 24 will be ready to begin in a month, Harry," said Dylan quietly.

"A month?" Harry repeated. "Why not sooner?"

"It's a massive commitment," Dylan pointed out. "It will not be easy. People have to prepare for it. It takes time."

"The envoys –"

"Already done. An I.C.W. meeting has been scheduled for next week. That should be enough time to prepare for everything. Do you still think a peaceful solution is possible?"

"I'm not sure, Dylan," sighed Harry, running his fingers through his raven-black hair. "I made the biggest blunder possible. I killed Ivan Krum instead of arresting him. I shouldn't have done that. We don't know how deep his betrayal goes. I found Percy Weasley in the house, but the man had been Obliviated. He doesn't remember anything of the last ten years. I could only gather fragments of his erased thoughts which showed me that for whatever reason, Krum Obliviated Percy before I got there."

"He probably wanted to deflect to our side. Krum would then have to get rid of the threat, wouldn't he?"

"Still … he'll probably be in St Mungo's for quite some time. Meanwhile, I've sent Aurors to search the country for Hermione Granger. She seems to be involved in this plot too, from what his fragmented memories could tell me. I can't believe she had me fooled!"

"You mean had _Dobby_ fooled," corrected Dylan. "Not you."

Harry bit his lip. "She's smarter than I gave her credit for," he muttered. "Or maybe Krum advised her to use some obscure spells to avoid detection. The man knew his way around concealment charms, I'll give him that. If it wasn't for that chaotic magical signature, we would never have found him."

After bidding his brother goodnight, Harry proceeded to his bedroom. He blinked his eyes in surprise when he found his children on his bed, fast asleep. He looked around for his wife and found her in the balcony off the bedroom.

"Did you find him?" asked Daphne, her voice hollow.

"Uh-huh," Harry said, standing beside her. He moved to wrap his arms around her waist, but his wife moved away, unwilling to face him.

Harry narrowed his eyes, but continued. "Ivan Krum was behind it. And apparently, so is Hermione Granger. I've already told Padma to get started on Operation 24. We should be ready in about a month."

"So Krum has been arrested, I take it?"

"No. He's dead. I killed him in my anger."

Daphne looked at him with something akin to surprise on her face. But she immediately turned away.

"What about you?"

Daphne grimaced. She waved her hand instead, summoning a handheld E-Mirror. Harry frowned slightly as he activated it, displaying the face of a reporter.

 _"Breaking news! Recent reports from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have shown that there was yet another attack on the Muggle world this evening. As you all know, the first attack took place at the office of the Muggle Prime Minister, which many speculate was a trap set for Minister Black and Supreme Chancellor Harry Potter."_

 _"Unfortunately, Algernon Croaker, the then global head of the Department of Mysteries, Lady Amelia Black, the then head of the D.M.L.E., and James Harrison Potter, the son of Lord Harry and Lady Daphne, were caught in the blast instead. The Ministry has confirmed that Mr Croaker and Lady Black died in the attack. May Mother Magic help their souls find purpose again."_

 _"Mr Potter's condition, on the other hand, is unknown to us, though there are rumours that the Supreme Chancellor's youngest child may also have succumbed to his injuries. Many are refusing to believe it, all of them optimistic that the eight-year-old boy will make a full recovery. Streets in the cities of Hogsmeade, Godric's Hollow and Camelot are lined with people, encouraging druids to perform healing rites to appeal to Mother Magic to save the life of the little boy."_

 _"An hour ago, the Magical Daily also received word that another tragedy had struck the Muggle world. The Ministry assures us that there were no wizarding casualties this time, but the place of attack seems to be the Palace of Westminster, which, according to our sources, acted as the building used by the Muggles to serve as their legislative headquarters."_

 _"The entire building has been destroyed, with practically no debris. Our experts have been unable to identify what caused this in the first place, as Muggle bombs have been historically known to leave a lot of destruction behind. Is this more proof to show us that the Muggles are headed for another world war? Will they also bring the magical world into their conflict, as they already have? What does the Supreme Chancellor have to say about this?"_

 _"Stay tuned for more."_

 _"In other news, the funeral for Mr Croaker and Lady Black will be held tomorrow –"_

"You destroyed the British parliament?"

Daphne didn't answer. She seemed to be shivering.

"Daphne," said Harry softly.

"I let my emotions get the best of me."

"You were in a state of shock. Anyone would do the same."

"Did you and Dylan react the way I did?"

"Yes, in fact –"

"No, you didn't. You didn't destroy an entire building in your lust for revenge," said Daphne, finally turning to look at him. "Tell me, Harry. What is the job of a good leader?"

"Daph –"

"Please answer the question."

Harry exhaled. "Their primary responsibility is to protect their people in the face of danger," he replied.

Daphne smiled faintly, but there was no happiness there. "How ironic that I did the exact opposite," she said softly. "In retaliation for what they did to my family, I destroyed their parliament and started a conflict between wizards and Muggles. If people are going to die in this war, then it is my fault entirely. I can already feel the blood of millions on my hands and the war hasn't even started yet."

"Daphne –"

"In my anger, I committed the biggest blunder possible, Harry. It was arrogant, ill-advised and selfish. And now the entire magical world will pay for my mistake!"

She took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair. "My actions created a self-fulfilling prophecy," Daphne chuckled humourlessly. "And all this time, we were thinking that just maintaining secrecy would be enough. It would have been if I weren't so emotionally unstable. This is _my_ fault. The blame can be laid squarely at my feet."

Harry didn't respond to that. He knew that she would only get more upset should he defend her actions. Both of them made mistakes tonight that could change the course of the future in unknown directions.

The effect of their actions would be felt through time. They were both as culpable for what happened as the Muggles.

Wrapping his arms around her, Harry pulled his wife to his chest for a tight hug. The couple embraced each other, their arms the only source of comfort they could seek at the moment.

"I don't blame you," Harry whispered.

"I know," Daphne said softly, as tears welled up in her eyes. "But I blame myself. And that guilt is eating me alive for knowing what I've done."

Harry simply stroked her hair as he stared into the distance.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: After going through many of your messages and reviews, I know that you were expecting someone's death. Not sure if you guessed as to who it was going to be. I do admit that I originally intended for it to be Sirius and Amelia, but I couldn't bring myself to kill Sirius. Therefore, I chose Croaker and Amelia instead. Tragedy had to be incorporated, unfortunately, as the plot would only thicken should emotions be fragile._**

 ** _I've mentioned repeatedly that Harry and Daphne are not perfect and that they have flaws. They also make mistakes like any normal human being, but being important individuals, they're mistakes could have serious consequences, just like Albus Dumbledore said in Book 5._**

 ** _If you observe, events are occurring just as how Luna Lovegood had foreseen in Chapter 41. Despite their attempts to prevent war, the actions of different people, intentional or not, is making the prophecy come true. Who is to blame is not a question that be can be answered easily, at least in my opinion._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	56. The Secret Ousted

**_Chapter 56_**

 ** _The Secret Ousted_**

The place was deathly silent. The people gathered there were dressed in simple white cotton garments, symbolising purity and peace, showing that one entered the world with nothing and left the world with nothing but their deeds. There were here for the funeral of Amelia Black. Algernon Croaker had already been cremated by his family members earlier that day.

Rigel felt his father squeeze his shoulder. The fifteen-year-old boy pursed his lips, lest everyone witness his emotional breakdown. His mother's body was laid to rest on a pyre in front of him. Tradition dictated that he, her son, send her off with honour.

Harry and Dylan were standing on either side of him, both of them silent. Rigel knew that they were upset. They were all devastated. He had never seen his father this shattered before. The only reason Sirius still remained standing was because of his young son.

Following the instructions of the druid, Rigel pointed his wand at the ground and walked around the pyre, sprinkling water. Once he was done, he took his place next to his brothers once more.

Sirius collapsed on the ground. Harry and Dylan rushed to help him, but the man continued sobbing heartbreakingly. Rigel didn't turn to his father. Instead, he pointed his wand at the pyre.

" _Incendio!"_

Fire burst from the tip of his wand and slowly consumed the body of Amelia Black, one of the finest women the world had ever seen. Rigel continued to stand, his eyes brimming with tears as he said goodbye to his beloved mother.

Charlie and Belladonna rushed forward and wrapped their arms around his waist. Rigel allowed the tears to fall as he whispered, "I won't fail you, Mum. I promise. I love you."

The flames from the burning pyre seemed to be dancing in the eyes of everyone present.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Hermione Granger ignored the chaos all around her. She was focussed only on her work. More than one hundred witches and wizards were now members of the D.A., also known as Dumbledore's Army. They were the rebellion; the last hope to stop Harry Potter from destroying the world as they knew it.

But that was not all. Four days back, the Prime Minister's residence had been bombed in an effort to rid the world of the Dark Lord known as Harry Potter. Unfortunately, their plan hadn't worked. Not only had Potter not been in the country when the attack took place, his mother and son were caught in the blast instead. That only seemed to anger the Supreme Chancellor of the International Confederation of Wizards.

He had taken spectacular revenge on them all. So many politicians had died due to his attack on the British parliament. The entire country was in chaos. The Prime Minister was running himself ragged due to the stress of maintaining order. How would he govern the country when there was no government left? Shockwaves of this brutal attack had spread throughout the world. No one in recent times had dared to openly launch an attack such as this. Terrorists usually targeted the common man, not the head of the government itself.

But that was not all that Harry Potter had done. He had once again managed to destroy her life. Hermione's heart was in pieces. Whispers had reached her ear that she was now wanted for questioning. Aurors everywhere were searching for her. If not for Krum teaching her how to mask her magical signature, Hermione was sure that she would have been found.

Thinking about Krum made her choke back on a sob. The _Magical Daily News_ had reported that along with the Muggles, Ivan Krum had also been part of the plot to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor. He was now reported dead. There was no word on Percy, but Hermione knew in her heart that Potter had killed her husband too. Whether he had been directly taken out or had been imprisoned, Percy's fate was clear.

Daphne Potter had been responsible for the deaths of her parents.

And now Harry Potter was responsible for the deaths of her husband and the man she looked up to as a father.

She would not let them win. Both the magical and the Muggle worlds depended on her. Krum had instructed her to carry on if something were to happen to him and that's what she was going to do.

But before she could seek the help of the Muggles, she had something else planned.

"Gather around, everyone," announced Hermione. The members of the D.A. all stopped what they were doing. There were people here from all communities around the world. Not all of them were Muggle-borns, Hermione realised that. Blood-purity was a thing of the past.

"You all know what is at stake," she said, trying to sound confident. "Potter has already launched an attack on the Muggles. Hundreds of Muggles died when the Palace of Westminster was destroyed. But he did not stop there. He killed our leader, Ivan Krum, the greatest wizard we have seen since Albus Dumbledore. Mr Krum died selflessly so that our world would find peace."

Many began whispering heatedly. They were all furious about Krum's death.

"Potter only seeks vengeance for his unhappy childhood," spat Hermione. "He doesn't care about wizards or Muggles; only himself. He has brainwashed everyone in the magical world. The members of the I.C.W. are simply his minions to do his bidding. If he attacks once more, the Muggles will stand no chance. Mr Krum knew this. That is the reason we are going back in time to magically enhance the military equipment of the Muggles."

"Miss Granger, how far back will the time-turner take us?"

"Joao," said Hermione, pointing to a wizard in the corner, "believes that he can send us to the year 2016 – two years back in time. With all of us working together, that should be enough to prepare for what is to come."

"What exactly are we to modify?"

"Focus on the military fighter jets," answered Hermione. "The air force is your first priority. Do everything possible to shield them. Weapons are the next on the list. Enhance them with magic so that we can obliterate Potter's forces as quickly and efficiently as possible. Don't forget to use glamour and translation charms while shifting between countries. Focus your efforts on the top ten military powers; that should be enough."

"What about nuclear weapons? Potter would surely use them should he find out where they are!"

Hermione smiled grimly. "Don't worry about that. Before his death, Mr Krum and I had been working on a way to protect them and keep them out of Potter's reach. We already have a plan in place and my team will take care of it. The rest of you need to focus on the air force and their missiles. With Potter's top brass destroyed, everything can go back to how it was. Potter is the only enemy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"To Dumbledore's Army!" she cried.

"To Dumbledore's Army!"

Joao, their sole expert on time-travel, cast a spell around the room. All the members held hands, with Hermione touching the time-turner. Joao spun the hourglass.

The one hundred and twenty-four members of the D.A. seemed to shimmer as they disappeared from view. Just a second later, they reappeared, all of them looking slightly older.

After all, the past two years had been extremely stressful.

"Report," said Hermione. She looked haggard and sickly, with dark circles under his eyes, as if she had not gotten much sleep over the past two years.

"My team couldn't get access to all the fighter jets in different countries, but we managed to shield nearly seventy per cent of it all," one of the members answered.

"Our team decided that the smaller bombers alone would not be sufficient. We charmed the bigger ones too. These were previously used mainly for transport, but I think we managed to convince the Muggles to use them as attack vehicles too."

"Their weapons have been modified. Their missiles and torpedoes are enhanced with magic. Potter will stand no chance, I assure you."

Hermione nodded. They were prepared for war. She was not surprised that no one here asked her about nuclear weapons. They couldn't, as they didn't remember the fact that such weapons existed in the first place.

Since the start of the Voldemort war, Dumbledore had always been wary of nuclear missiles. Should Voldemort get his hands on one of them, it could tip the scale of the war in ways no one could imagine. In order to stop that from happening, the late headmaster had then researched methods to hide the dangerous weapons. His research over the years had led him to a modified form of the Fidelius Charm.

Instead of hiding just the location of the many weapons, Dumbledore, with the help of Ivan Krum, had designed a spell to lock the secret of the knowledge of nuclear weapons in the mind of the Secret Keeper. It was an infinitely complex spell, but Krum had managed to teach it to Hermione.

When Krum had proposed the idea of going back in time, he and Hermione had prepared for this mission. They knew that Potter would use those dangerous weapons for his own benefit, so the knowledge of them had to be wiped from the minds of everyone. Unfortunately, after going back in time, Hermione realised that the theory behind the charm and the actual implementation were quite different.

They had identified one place of launch in the U.K. However, after her companion had cast the charm, with her as the Secret Keeper, Hermione realised that the knowledge of nuclear weapons had not been contained as she had hoped. Instead, only knowledge of this particular launch pad had been erased. It was no different than the unmodified version of the charm itself. After a week of research, she realised that for the charm to work, she would have to find every nuclear missile on the planet and link them together with magic. Only after they were all tied together would their attempt to cast the Fidelius and erase the existence of the weapons from the minds of everyone be successful.

That, however, turned out to be harder than she thought. After two weeks, Hermione had begun to panic due to the loss of time. Without any option available, she used the Imperius Curse on various top military and secret service heads of different nuclear-armed Muggle governments. Using their knowledge and making them extract top-secret intelligence that was stored in secured computer servers, she and her team tracked down every single nuclear warhead. It had taken them almost all of two years, working every single day, eating on the run with only a few hours of sleep, as they did their best to stop Potter before he got to the missiles first.

Finally, only two days before she had to head back to their base, she had managed to do it. After successfully linking every nuclear missile that existed, her team had cast the modified Fidelius Charm on their original target – the launch pad in the U.K. It had worked. When Hermione had tested it, asking one of them about nuclear weapons, her companion had been confused. That's when she finally breathed a sigh of relief. Potter would never get his hands on those weapons.

Albus Dumbledore and Ivan Krum would have been proud. Their mission had been a success. Her only wish was that she could have used that time to stop Potter before he killed her mentor and husband. Unfortunately, Krum had been right. Any major events that had already occurred could not be stopped by the time-turner. She had tried and failed every single time. But after her mission had been completed, Hermione consoled herself that it would not matter, because Harry Potter would soon meet his end.

The D.A. was ready. It was time to stop Potter in his tracks once and for all.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Sowilo City_**

"We've managed to speed up the process, Harry," said Padma Patil. "The temporal runic array will be ready in two days. We can then begin charging them with magic. By my estimates, it should be complete in about two weeks."

"All those who'll be a part of Operation 24 have been contacted," Dylan informed him. "Many of them have already shifted here. Accommodations are being provided to them as we speak."

"Good," said Harry. "Daphne?"

"All the required materials have been brought to the city," she answered. "We shouldn't find any resources to be scarce during our time here."

Harry nodded in satisfaction. He had already met the leaders of various other magical species over the past few days. They had agreed to support him during this conflict. Not all of them would fight, but as long as they didn't rebel, Harry was satisfied.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Speaking before the Security Council of the United Nations was certainly a situation Hermione Granger did not think she would find herself in. The room was in chaos, mostly due to the attack on London. The Prime Minister was seated, simply observing the proceedings, letting his delegates handle the matter.

"Hermione, I need you to step out of the room for a few minutes," said the Prime Minister quietly from beside her.

"Sir?" she asked in surprise. "I thought we were going to tell them about Potter?"

"We are," the man replied crisply. "But I'm afraid that your sudden presence will confuse them. We don't want things to get out of hand, do we? Let me handle it. I shall call you when they demand proof that magic is real. Allow me to do the talking, Hermione. Is that clear?"

Hermione nodded slowly. She didn't like it, but she could understand where the Prime Minister was coming from. She had no experience dealing with the Security Council; she would only be a hindrance.

Once the witch had left, the Prime Minister stood up.

"I know many of you are wondering what exactly is going on," he said, his voice loud and clear. "Over the past two weeks, the United Kingdom has experienced tragedies that are horrifying, dealing with situations we never expected to find ourselves in. My home was attacked, and so was the British parliament during an active session. Nearly all my colleagues were killed during the explosion that obliterated the Palace of Westminster."

He paused, taking in the scrutinizing expressions on many of the members' faces. Boy, were they in for a surprise.

"Most of you are labouring under the delusion that this was a terrorist attack. But let me assure you that we are facing a threat far greater than such extremists. Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my sad duty to inform you that our entire population has been deceived for centuries; there is a massive _cult_ underground that seeks to destroy us. These _beings_ – for they cannot be called human – call themselves witches and wizards. They have control over an arcane power they call magic."

Utter chaos gripped the hall as the British Prime Minister finished his speech. Many heads of state were laughing openly. The French President, however, was grim. The rest were questioning the man's sanity.

"My dear Prime Minister, forgive me, but are you drunk?"

"I think this latest tragedy has gone to your mind, sir!"

"What in the world –"

"He's telling the truth," the French President cut in. "The reason why none of you know about this is that the freaks didn't reveal themselves to you. They have their own government and whatnot. Millions of such beings live all over the world, right under our noses."

"I can prove it to you," continued the Prime Minister, before anyone else could question his sanity. He signalled his bodyguards to open the door.

Hermione Granger entered the room. She pointed her wand at the centre table and chanted, " _Wingardium Leviosa."_

The members of the United Nations Security Council watched in absolute shock and fascination as the table floated in mid-air, defying the laws of gravity. Hermione flicked her wand, transfiguring the table into a dog and then into a horse. With another flick, the table returned.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, you may leave now," ordered the Prime Minister. Hermione hesitated for a few seconds before nodding. The door closed behind her.

"Your eyes are not deceiving you," said the French President quietly. "This is real."

"Why were we not informed about this sooner?" roared the U.S. President.

"Would you have believed us if we had?" snapped the Prime Minister. "Just a minute ago, everyone here questioned my sanity. Do you have any idea the danger the world is in, being surrounded by freaks like Hermione Granger? There are millions of witches and wizards – _abominations_ – all over the world. They are the cause of our suffering! They destroyed the British parliament!"

"And what proof do you have?"

The Prime Minister was ready. For the next hour, he explained in detail, with various photographs, recording devices and witnesses, how the magical world had remained underground, creating chaos from within. The existence of Dark Lords like Grindelwald and Voldemort was revealed. The tension in the room was growing.

"These freaks have been the cause of so much destruction. No longer will they harm us! What if _they_ are the reason the Second World War began? I have reason to believe that they helped Hitler during the war as well!"

"Should I find that they caused the attack on 9/11 …"

"For all we know, they did!"

"These creatures have their own government?!"

"They should be brought under our control. We can't let such power go unchecked!"

"Who represents these freaks?"

The Prime Minister's lips curved into a sneer at the last question. "A man named Harry Potter. He and the freaks have declared war on the United Kingdom by attacking us! From this moment onwards, those freaks are our enemy!"

Many others stood up, declaring their support, but unfortunately, it was not as easy as the Prime Minister had hoped. Even within the Security Council, the contempt the member countries held for each other ran deep, hidden by a façade of peace.

It would take time for them to unite under a single banner. But if he were to take a stand, others might follow, mostly due to their own interests and self-preservation.

That was all he could hope at the moment. He quickly strode out of the room.

"Any progress, sir?" asked Hermione hopefully.

"Yes, Hermione," he replied. "I've warned them about the danger known as Harry Potter. But politics is murky, as you know. They won't accept it until the truth is shoved in their faces."

"But there's got to be something we can do!" Hermione protested.

"Not to worry," he smiled. He was happy that the entire meeting before the Security Council had been recorded. "Within a few hours, every person on the planet who has access to the television will know about Harry Potter," _and about freaks like you who need to be eradicated for the good of the world._

After all, no one with such power should be left unchecked, especially if the wizards did indeed bring chaos to the _normal_ beings. In his mind, it mattered not whether the magical races were the root cause of all their problems. The Prime Minister, for one, couldn't wait to experiment on the creatures and find out exactly how they wielded magic. The power he and his countrymen would hold would be limitless and they would once more be a global superpower – with him leading the world.

Besides, the freaks were just filthy creatures. The _normal_ beings would only try to save them by making them fall in line.

Unfortunately, the Prime Minister was not aware that many a politician from different countries was thinking along the same lines as he.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Sowilo City_**

Supreme Chancellor Harry Potter watched the news with unblinking eyes. The wizarding news channels had caught wind of the change that was gripping the Muggles and were quick to broadcast it worldwide.

 _"– I.C.W. intelligence tells us that the witch in question is Hermione Granger, a woman from Avalon who had been involved in the attack on Algernon Croaker, Amelia Black and James Potter. Her current location is unknown, but the Confederation has sent most of its Aurors to the Muggle New York City to apprehend her."_

 _"We believe Miss Granger's actions have irrevocably destroyed the International Statute of Secrecy. Due to the technology invented by the Muggles, which is similar to the E-Mirrors used by witches and wizards, nearly the entire non-magical population is now aware of the existence of magic. It is unknown how this is going to affect the lives of various magical races around the world, but it has been advised that no one is to enter a Muggle-populated area. Even though most are in denial, experts say that violence could break out at any moment. Tensions between the two worlds haven't been this high in centuries."_

 _"The International Confederation of Wizards has convened an emergency session to deal with this pressing matter. The Supreme Chancellor has been unavailable for comment."_

"The shroud of darkness has fallen, Lord Potter," Perenelle Flamel said from beside him. "We must take action or we might lose everything that we hold most dear."

"I understand, my Lady."

Perenelle nodded and walked out of the room. Dylan, who was standing next to him, was frowning.

"You knew that she would do this. You had spies reporting to you. Why didn't you stop her?"

Harry paused. "Yes, my spies indeed told me that the Prime Minister would speak before the Security Council today. I knew for sure that Granger would make this move. After Krum's death, she was cornered. Had she not revealed us to the Muggles, I would have been downright surprised."

"Then why –"

"Why didn't I stop her?" Harry finished sharply. "Dylan, think from a tactical point of view. I messed up big time. I killed Ivan Krum without interrogating him. He was the leader of the resistance movement, the only one who knew exactly what was going on. Krum knew that should I read his mind, his campaign would be over before it began. So, he taunted me instead. I was grief-stricken after the attack. My mother was killed, my son was as good as dead, my father was heartbroken and my wife was crushed! Worse, there was absolutely _nothing_ I could do to help them. I didn't like that feeling of helplessness at all. This was worse than the time you and Daphne were kidnapped by the Death Eaters! I lost it and killed him. My actions nearly cost us victory over the Muggles."

Dylan remained silent. As a military leader, he knew that Harry was right but didn't want to openly admit it. He loved his brother too much to do that.

"Master Nicolas was correct. We have to remember what we're fighting for. Open warfare is now our only option. We aren't trying to crush the Muggles. We only want them to stop destroying the planet. We have the resources to cast the Imperius Curse on the head of every Muggle government in the world. We could move them like pieces on a chessboard. But what will that achieve? Nothing!"

"Why?" Dylan asked curiously.

A hint of a smile formed on Harry's lips. "I sometimes forget that you have no experience with politics. Most of the time, the top leader is nothing but a puppet, Dylan. Some of them have control, but never enough to actually make a difference, at least not in the scale we want it to happen. There are always those in the shadows, controlling them. Other politicians will influence them. Military aids and heads of secret service departments will always whisper in their ears. Rich, influential people can buy politicians. Underground organizations will, more often than not, have a say in government policies. This is apart from the corruption that nearly always exists in government bodies."

"How do you think the former goblin king Ragnuk managed to hold on to his crown until he was replaced? A gangster that ruled the underworld managed to keep him in power for several years. Cornelius Fudge was _nothing_. People like Lucius Malfoy, who worked behind the scenes, kept moving him around the way he saw fit. Had Dad not replaced him, the war with Voldemort could have been far, far worse because he was just a rag doll, his arms and mouth moving just the way Lucius told him to."

"How many Muggles can we control through the Imperius Curse before our soldiers themselves lose their minds, huh? And remember, not everyone can cast the Unforgivable Curses successfully. To be honest, I do not want them to. Even though I have taught you that those curses were originally invented for medical purposes, at this time, they are not used for good. They are illegal for a reason. I don't want the citizens of the I.C.W. to use those curses, even for us to win the war. If it is absolutely necessary, the elite group of the army can do it, but not the rest."

Harry took a deep breath. "Essentially, the Elves were right. They had already tried mind control and it didn't work. They managed to create awareness but that's about it. The _people_ have to believe what they're doing is wrong, Dylan. The government, as much I hate to say it, will not able to change the minds of the people unless drastic steps are taken."

"And us coming into the picture is a drastic step," Dylan said softly. "But what if we simply force those governments to pass laws that will help? We can order them to stop using oil and stop cutting down forests."

"The Muggles will not follow that because, all of us, in our own way, are selfish," Harry exhaled. "From the intelligence the Department of Mysteries has gathered, I've found out that the oil business is huge in their world and generates a lot of money. The global economy will crash without it. The Muggles will be in turmoil without oil. Electricity, communication, mobility, _everything_ will be affected. Unless they're cornered, they will never give up oil, even if it's destroying the planet."

"So open combat is the only option at the moment," said Dylan, sighing in resignation. "So much for trying to prevent war, huh?"

Harry smiled grimly. "I guess so," he replied quietly. "We did everything possible to prevent exposure, only for me to actually allow Granger to expose the magical world. How ironic. I knew where she would be but I wasn't stupid enough to capture her there."

"Yeah, Granger isn't an idiot. She would have contingency plans in place in order to escape. Don't worry, Harry. We'll catch her off-guard some other time."

Dylan then checked his watch. "Come on. They're waiting for you."

Nodding, after stealing a final glance at the E-Mirror, Supreme Chancellor Harry Potter walked out of the room for the most important meeting of his life. It had the potential to change the magical world as they knew it.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The meeting place for the delegates of the I.C.W. was much larger and spacious than any building that housed the legislative body in the various magical countries. The building itself was massive and seemed to be built like a trapezium, with mammoth statues of various great visionaries of the past from different magical cultures. Great care was taken while designing Sowilo City so that it would be a welcoming place to all magical species and not only humans.

After all, they were fighting for magic. Magic was what linked them together. There would not differentiate between humans, goblins, elves, veela, vampires or any other species.

The inside of the hall was filled with circular pads where the delegates were allotted individual seats. They were evenly spread out from top to bottom, with dim light from above shining on them. The podiums were enchanted so that they could detach from the wall when necessary. In the centre of the room, was another podium, rising from beneath the ground, from where their leader would soon emerge from.

Two thousand people began whispering about the sudden change the magical world had experienced in a short amount of time due to Hermione Granger's betrayal. The Statute of Secrecy was in shambles for the first time in three centuries and no one knew how to handle it. The safety net had been shot.

The podium rose from the ground and lights flickered into existence. The Supreme Chancellor of the I.C.W. raised his head and observed the audience.

"My friends," Harry Potter said in a deep voice. "Today is a day that shall be remembered for all eternity. The shroud of darkness has fallen. The International Statute of Secrecy, our most sacred law, enforced by every magical species on this planet, lies in ruins. We have been betrayed."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Move it, come on, quickly!" Dylan ordered.

It was nighttime. Many people were still entering Sowilo City. It was already populated by tens of thousands of men, woman and children from all over the world. As soon as the last of the politicians would leave after the emergency session, the gates would be sealed.

"Monitor all communication channels," said Dylan. "We need to know the status of the Muggles."

"Yes, General. I'm on it."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"One of our own has revealed the existence of magic to the Muggles," continued Harry. "And this time, we cannot simply wipe their memories and be done with it. No, this was recorded and broadcasted all over the world. Every Muggle government is now aware of the existence of magic. More importantly, their people are aware of the existence of magic. And you know from your own experiences that they will not accept it."

"They won't, because we are, according to them, _abnormal._ To the Muggles, we all are freaks of nature, an abomination. They believe the existence of magic is a lie and would do everything possible to destroy us, mainly because they can never _understand_. It is beyond their comprehension. What they don't understand, they fear."

"The British Prime Minister, along with Ivan Krum and Hermione Granger, are behind this. They launched a cowardly attack on me and my family. It was a trap to assassinate me, but innocent people paid the price instead."

Harry choked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes. Just thinking about Amelia and James was enough to make him break down. The entire chamber was encompassed with a deathly silence, those present trembling slightly due to the rage and sorrow that was radiating from the Chancellor's body; magic seemed to be sizzling in the air around him.

"Their attempts will not stop here. What if they decide that magic is the cause of their problems? Or worse, that since we have powers they don't, we are obligated to help them because they consider us inferior beings? Do they expect us to become their _slaves?_ "

"Never!" shouted Harry, over the din that sentence had caused. "We shall fight for our people. We shall fight for our children! We shall protect our planet! It is _our duty_ as the children of Mother Magic to protect her!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"The temporal runes are ready," said Padma.

"Admiral," a soldier saluted smartly to Daphne. "The latest transport has arrived. The materials you ordered are in the warehouse. We are good to go."

"What about the new citizens of Sowilo?"

"Every member of the city has been accounted for, my Lady. Your family members have arrived as well and are presently residing at _Number One, Republica_."

Daphne nodded. Her blue eyes fixed themselves on the magical computer screen. The _Varasma_ levels were stable.

"Start charging the temporal runes, Padma," she said quietly.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"This attempt by our enemies has led many to believe that the magical world is on the brink of disaster. But this is far from the truth. The future is uncertain, but they will not break us!"

"My mother was killed because of their lust for power," Harry spat bitterly. "My son is in a coma that he may never recover from because the Muggles cannot bring themselves to share and accept the fact that there are others who are simply _different_. They speak in the only language that they know of – utter destruction. They targeted my family to destroy me, and as an extension, all of you. If you look into their actions over the past several centuries, you'll see that they are no strangers to eradicating and decimating entire cultures of native worlds and their people, all because they have a strange sense of superiority and entitlement. Who is to say that they don't wish the same fate upon _us?_ "

"The attack on our son has left me and my wife crippled. But I assure you – the rest of the magical world, all of our people who I consider to be my family – shall never undergo the same torment of having to witness their child's suffering. We shall not back down! Our family, all of us, shall rise above this pain and hardship!" Harry shouted passionately amidst cheers.

"Dark times are looming over the horizon and the future is uncertain. Therefore, in order to ensure the safety and stability of the people of the magical world in these dire times, I propose that the International Confederation of Wizards and all its allied government bodies of various magical species be consolidated to form the first INTERNATIONAL MAGICAL REPUBLIC!"

Harry's heart was thumping in his chest as the members of the Republic cheered and applauded for his decision. He had done the impossible.

He had united the entire magical world together for the first time in history.

"The Republic will fight for our magical brethren," announced Harry. "We shall try to negotiate with the Muggles and restore the Statute of Secrecy, but should our efforts fail, then we shall prepare for war; a war that shall be fought for the future of our children."

Thumping his chest with gusto, he shouted, "With the blessings of Mother Magic, I, the Supreme Chancellor of the Magical Republic, on behalf of my people and this Senate, formally declare war on the Muggles who seek to destroy us!"

Thunderous applause echoed throughout the chamber as Harry bowed to the Senators and heads of government in respect. As his podium sank into the ground, he could hear the cries they were chanting.

 _"Long live the Republic!"_

 _"Long live the Supreme Chancellor!"_

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

It was past midnight when Harry stepped into his bedroom in the newly furnished _Sowilo Palace_ , formally known as _Number One, Republica_ , the official residence of the Supreme Chancellor of the Magical Republic. It didn't have the homely feeling of Potter Castle, but for now, it would have to do.

He found his wife sitting on the bed, gently rocking their children in order to comfort them. James was here too, but it only served to remind them all of his present condition. However, none of them chose to give up, evident by the fact that Daphne had all three of them here, explaining the situation.

"Dad!" Charlie cried, getting to his feet and rushing into his father's arms. Harry hugged his oldest tightly, inhaling the familiar scent and made room for his daughter as she too pounced on him.

"We heard what happened," Belladonna said softly. "Is there really going to be a war, Daddy?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Harry said after a pause. "But there is more which you need to know."

Guiding his children to the bed, he sat down next to his wife. Daphne took their hands in hers and tried to make them understand.

"Charlie, Bella, I know this is a tough time for all of us," she said gently. "You lost your grandmother and your brother is in a coma, not to mention we are far away from home. Unfortunately, we won't be returning to Potter Castle anytime soon."

"Why not?"

"It's because this city was constructed for a reason," explained Harry. "You see, we've always known that a war might break out any moment and we've been preparing for this moment for more than a decade. In accordance, this city was designed with temporal runes crafted throughout the outer perimeter."

"Temporal runes?" Charlie spluttered in surprise. "Y-You mean – we'll be – well, will we –"

"Will we be going back in time?" Belladonna finished.

"Not exactly," answered Daphne slowly. "It's more complex than that. Simply going back in time would not have solved our problems. You have to understand that just because we have magic doesn't mean we can win the war with the Muggles, not when there are billions of them spread across the planet. Also, the devices that help witches and wizards go back in time are dangerous and also rigid. We needed something else to help us prepare on a long-term scale."

"In essence," Harry continued, "we won't be going _back_ in time, but we will simply _slow_ time within the runic circle that surrounds Sowilo City."

"Slow time?"

"What does that mean?"

"Basically, for every five minutes that passes outside the temporal runic array, we spend one month inside."

Reality began into sink into their minds as the twins swallowed in nervousness.

"F-For how long are we going to stay here, Mum?" asked Charlie hesitantly.

Daphne sighed. "Twenty-four hours," she answered, "which in our terms, will be about twenty-four to twenty-five years."

"Basically, once we activate the runes two days from now," said Harry, "the outside world will continue to exist in the same space-time-magic continuum as the rest of the planet, but we, in here, will be spending around twenty-four years together."

"And what are we going to do during this time?" asked Belladonna.

Harry took a deep breath. "We're going to prepare for war," he said seriously. "Since we don't want anyone to age unnecessarily, the Elves have provided us with an alchemical potion that will slow down our metabolism, so that we can lead healthy, productive lives. You'll be administered the potion once you both turn seventeen."

"What this means for you is that should you choose to stay here with us, you can never go to Hogwarts like the rest of your peers," said Daphne softly. "There are many children residing in the city as well, but they all chose to come here. We didn't give you that choice. Your Grandfather Sirius will not be joining us, and neither will Grandpa and Grandma Greengrass. If you want a relatively normal life, we won't blame you if you wish to go live with them for a day. That's all it'll be – a day. You'll see us very soon. It won't affect you."

There was silence in the palatial room, with the cool wind blowing from the massive windows. The Himalayan mountain peaks could be seen from the palace windows and the twinkling lights of the stars were a stark contrast to the bright lights of Sowilo City.

"And what if we choose to stay?" inquired Charlie quietly. "What will happen to us?"

Harry and Daphne looked at each other.

"You'll grow up like everyone else, but once the temporal runes are deactivated, you'll be fully grown adults, not children. You'll be in your early thirties. Unlike Muggles, physically, you still won't look a day over seventeen, and with the help of the Elixir of Life, you'll probably remain that way for a long time, but the fact of the matter is that should you meet any of your friends back home, they'll still be kids. Doing this might take away your childhood and teenage years."

Belladonna shook her head. "I don't care," she said stubbornly. "My place is with my family, and I'm not leaving you, Mum and Jamie."

"Neither am I," Charlie nodded fervently. "We Peverells always stick together, and this time is no different, war or not. We'll join the army and we'll help you. Face it, Mum, Dad, you can't get rid of us."

Those words were enough to make the parents sag with relief. They knew it was selfish of them to want to keep their children here, but they couldn't help it. Twenty-four years without them would be torture. Grabbing the twins in a hug, Harry and Daphne exhaled.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: There are some Star Wars references here, even though I've tried hard to avoid them. So I better get it out of the way and say that I don't own Star Wars, Star Trek or Harry Potter._**

 ** _JKR said in one of her interviews that the Statute of Secrecy in the Harry Potter world would always exist and that they wouldn't ever reveal themselves to Muggles. Even in the movies, they say that exposure would lead to war. I'm going with the flow too._**

 ** _As for capture, Hermione is quite talented, enough to evade Voldemort and the Death Eaters for nearly a year in Book 7. I think she can hide from Harry as well ... for a time._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews!_**


	57. The War Begins

**_Chapter 57_**

 ** _The War Begins_**

The family of four heard a screeching sound. The familiar vortex opened in the air above them as Chāyā flew out, singing merrily. The phoenix song was enough to raise the spirits of not only the palace residents, but of everyone in Sowilo City as well.

"Hey girl," whispered Harry as he gently stroked the creature's dark feathers. Chāyā trilled happily as she situated herself next to the comatose form of James Potter.

"What is she doing?" asked Daphne in surprise.

"She's been doing that five times a day since the attack," Belladonna replied. "I'm not sure why."

The family watched with rapt attention as the royal phoenix cried into boy's open mouth. A few minutes later, she started singing.

Daphne untangled herself from her husband's arms and kneeled down before her youngest son. She placed a hand on his little body and her eyes widened.

"Harry, call the healers."

He didn't waste time. Picking up the communication mirror, he informed the palace security team to contact the healers.

"Mum, what's going on?" asked Charlie.

"I think Chāyā has managed to reverse the effects of the chaotic magic that hindered Jamie's treatment," Daphne croaked out. "I never realised … how did I forget that phoenix tears and song have healing powers that are beyond our own?"

The royal phoenix continued to sing as the healer arrived in minutes. Waving his wand fluidly, he muttered under his breath as he tried to dispel the residual effects of the chaotic magic from James' system.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, smiling brightly. "My Lord, my Lady, your son's body has been decontaminated. I have cast the required spells to help him heal. The coma has lifted, but he is still asleep. He should be waking up soon."

Bowing with respect, the healer left, leaving them in their solitude. Daphne turned towards the majestic creature with tears of gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. The phoenix trilled and nuzzled its face against hers.

"Mum, Dad, look!" Charlie shouted excitedly. "Jamie's eyes are fluttering!"

Indeed they were. James' eyelids slowly opened, revealing his brilliant green orbs. It took several moments for him to adjust to his surroundings. To his right, he saw his father, beaming with happiness in a way he had never seen before. Charlie and Belladonna were grinning too. To his left, however, James saw the elation and pure joy etched upon the beautiful features of his mother's face.

"Mummy?" he croaked out.

The dam burst as Daphne Potter hugged her youngest son, pressing her lips to his face and kissing him tenderly, sobbing uncontrollably.

James smiled faintly, still quite weak, as he held his mother, trying to console her.

Harry hugged the twins closer, his face buried in his son's hair, sobbing quietly. Charlie and Bella were crying too.

Their family was whole again. They were complete. They had the strength to survive the war.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Two weeks later, Harry and Dylan were standing in the former's office in the Senate building, overlooking the layout of the beautiful city, surrounded by lakes and Himalayan Mountain peaks. From the altitude, the Chancellor could see the edge of the city fortress, where the members of the Department of Mysteries were charging the temporal runes.

"What is it?" asked Dylan softly.

"Do you think I'm mad to seek out the Muggles and try for peace before the war truly begins?"

His lips curved into a small smile. "I've always thought you were a little on the loose side when it came to sanity," he teased.

Harry snorted. "Look who is talking!" he shot back.

"Touché. But I agree with you. There is nothing wrong with trying, brother dear. However, I doubt the Senate will agree. Hell, I doubt even Nicolas Flamel will agree."

"I know that," said Harry grimly. "I can always pressure the Senate into sending an envoy to speak to the United Nations, but I don't want to seem like a dictator. I can throw my weight around in the I.C.W., but not when other species are involved as well. We can't afford to have instability within our ranks this soon after the formation of the Republic."

"You're right. But you don't need the Senate's approval for sending your personal messenger, do you?"

Harry's green eyes bore into grey. "Will you do it?"

Dylan smiled and wrapped his arms around his older brother. "You know I would do anything for you."

Untangling himself from his brother's arms several seconds later, Harry shook Dylan's hand.

"Then good luck, General," he said formally.

The younger man nodded and walked out of the room. The Boy-Who-Lived watched as his brother Disapparated without anyone being the wiser.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

As she sat in front of the Prime Minister, Hermione Granger couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that accompanied her whenever she thought about the conflict. She tried not to get distracted, though. After all, she had to be prepared for when Potter would attack them. She had received reports from her spies that I.C.W. Aurors were still searching all over New York City for her, but thanks to her ingenuity in Charms and the training she had undergone under Ivan Krum who specialised in concealment charms, she continued to evade them.

What she _couldn't_ avoid, however, was the news.

The revelation that magic existed seemed to have thrown everyone into a frenzy of rage and confusion. Initially, the Muggles had been in denial, but in a matter of days, thanks to the internet and hateful speeches delivered by several politicians, scientists, analysts and religious leaders, the hatred towards magic intensified.

The Muggles started blaming magic for all their problems, and that turned out to be dangerous. Suddenly, everyone seemed to think that the source of all their problems was magic and the wizarding world. They blamed the destruction caused by the world wars on the wizards, but unfortunately, it didn't seem to end there. Within days, it escalated into such monumental proportions that everyone in the Muggle world was blaming the wizards for the state of the global economy, the terrorist attacks and even as simple as a person losing their job or catching a common cold.

After all, when one did not have the courage to face their own weaknesses, their only course of action is to blame their failures on someone else; and that was exactly what was happening.

The situation spiralled out of control so quickly that Hermione had been unable to do anything to appease the Muggles.

This was not part of the plan. What she had wanted to achieve through revealing the existence of magic was the ability to help the Muggles to defeat Potter and his forces. She knew he was a tyrant and a monster who kidnapped innocent children; he had to be stopped before the Muggles took the brunt of his hatred and anger, just like Voldemort before him. As Krum had said, the Muggles had evolved over time. Their plan had been perfect. What she had _not_ been expecting, however, was how different factions in the Muggle world would turn the population against witches and wizards, all for their own selfish agenda.

"Not to worry, Hermione dear," the Prime Minister assured her. "Once Potter is defeated, I will personally ensure that all of this propaganda is obliterated. Let the media spout what they want. In the end, only those in power matter, and we will work towards ending Potter's reign of terror for good."

Hermione felt relieved. "Thank you, sir," she smiled faintly. "Also, I have a plan of attack. The members of Dumbledore's Army are willing to duel Potter's forces separately."

"Actually, I do believe it is better if you and your people work directly with our army, Hermione. They could use your help."

"Are you sure they'll be willing to work with us, sir? The past few weeks have not been good for my people. They're quite scared that the non-magicals might target them."

"Nonsense," the Prime Minister laughed. "You are all citizens of the United Kingdom, and as your leader, I will grant you protection."

She opened her mouth to say something, mostly to clarify that most of them were, in fact, not British, but she suddenly closed her mouth with an audible click. That information was not relevant.

"Just do as I say, Hermione, and we can end this conflict soon before needless bloodshed."

"Alright, sir," she said briskly. "Allow me to gather the members of the rebellion. I'll meet you at the base in a couple of hours."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Dylan Lestrange stood in front of the tall glass building in New York City. From what Republic intelligence had told him, this was the headquarters of the United Nations, the body believed to be the equivalent of the International Confederation of Wizards. He wasn't sure who the head of the body was, or if they shared the same power as Harry, but one thing was clear. Someone with a lick of common sense would accept the peace proposal when he offered it.

Sneaking in without detection was a slight hindrance, especially after Granger had ousted the existence of the magical world to the masses. He was here because the heads of every Muggle country was present, discussing the latest developments. Therefore, entering the building would be a _little_ difficult, especially when one did not wish to be caught. After all, as a wizard, this was the last place he should be.

The headquarters of the United Nations was truly the heart of enemy territory. And during wartime, such a place had to be avoided at all costs. However, he was not just any ordinary wizard.

Confunding the various security guards with just a subtle wave of his hand repeatedly and avoiding the cameras by applying a Notice-me-Not charm, Dylan entered the building and proceeded towards the chamber that housed the United Nations General Assembly, the equivalent of the Senate of the Magical Republic. Standing right outside the large doors, he Confunded yet another security guard and asked him to announce his presence to those inside.

After all, it was rude to barge into a meeting without any warning. That was his brother's style, not his.

When he felt panic rise beyond the doors, he pushed them open and calmly strode in.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

There was pin-drop silence in the chamber as Dylan walked. His presence had been announced by the guard, and even if some would scoff at it, saying it was a trick, many others were pragmatic enough to realise that it could be quite real.

Standing right in front of the massive yellow wall that bared the organization's crest, the tall, muscular and imposing figure chose to address them all.

"Members of the United Nations, I'm Dylan Lestrange, General of the Grand Army of the Magical Republic. I'm here as the personal envoy to Supreme Chancellor Harry Potter, the leader of the international magical community. I come in peace."

The irony of an army chief delivering a message of peace was not lost on him.

Pandemonium gripped the members as they began shouting and screaming in fear. Dylan would have found the whole thing amusing had the situation been any less dire. He raised his hand and the sound of a cannon blast echoed throughout the chamber. The masses stilled immediately and various security personnel rushed into the room with guns drawn.

"Thank you," said Dylan, smiling politely, ignoring the Muggle soldiers who were screaming at him to surrender. He froze them with a lazy wave of his hand. "Now that I have your attention, I would like to say something."

"Yes, magic is real. There are various species, all over the world, that are magical. It is not a lie. However, until about two weeks ago, we chose to stay away from non-magical beings, knowing that you would not accept our presence without conflict. Unfortunately, one of our members turned traitor and revealed the existence of the magical world to this body. Both our worlds have been in chaos over the past fortnight because of her actions."

He could sense that they wanted to interrupt him, so Dylan continued loudly. "We do not want a conflict. The people of the magical world prefer to be separate and we don't want anything to do with your society. Even though you now know of magic, the Chancellor hopes that there will be no conflict between our two races. Just because we're different doesn't mean we are evil. His Excellency hopes that we can forget the incident that took place before the Security Council. The magical world will not interfere in your affairs and you cannot interfere in ours."

"I understand that there are forces among you who wish to gain power through unnecessary war and bloodshed. But this is not necessary. Please let things be. I come to you in peace and His Excellency hopes that you shall consider speaking to him about the matter. The future of both our worlds is vested in your decision."

The silence was broken when one of the delegates – Dylan couldn't identify him – sneered and said, "Is that _all_ you wish to say to us?"

"I have conveyed the Chancellor's message to this body," Dylan replied. "Yes, my work here is done. I shall take my leave."

"You misunderstood me, _General_ ," the man smirked. His eyes moved towards his security team that had entered the room just moments ago, all holding assault rifles.

Dylan had not risen to the rank of General without hard work. People screamed as the sound of bullets rent the air, but many seemed to be murmuring in satisfaction. When the smoke cleared, they found, much to their shock, their enemy in perfect condition.

"How despicable," Dylan spat, his grey eyes glowing with barely suppressed power. The entire building seemed to shudder under his rage. "Is this how you treat a messenger who comes in peace? Have you no sense of honour?"

"This is how we will treat a filthy creature – a monstrosity – like you!"

"Kill him!"

"Freak! It's because of you that our country is in turmoil!"

"You orchestrated the First and Second World Wars, didn't you?"

"What if this creature is responsible for the state of our economy?"

"Our people are without food because these wizards have taken them all!"

"You will answer us, freak! Did you engineer the terrorist attacks that have plagued the world?"

Dylan clenched his teeth in anger as he kicked and punched the soldiers who were trying to physically subdue him. He shielded against the bullets with ease and with a jump, flew towards the ceiling. The Muggles gasped in shock as he floated in mid-air.

"I really thought you were all smart enough to understand what was being offered to you," he growled. "Accepting the Supreme Chancellor's peace accord would have served you well. But you're all fools. You're blaming us for your shortcomings and think no end of yourselves. Let me tell you something. I was raised in the Muggle world and I know about the First and Second World Wars. Wizards had nothing to do with it, as we were fighting a world war of our own! Why the hell should we care about your economy when we have our own lives and people to take care of?"

"Listen, you puny bastards, our Senate has formally declared war on the Muggle world, which is _you_. Had you accepted peace, you would have lived. But now, by attacking an envoy that came to you without arms and in peace, you have signed a warrant for your destruction. You wish to destroy us just because we have a gift that you don't? Just because our people and culture are _different_ than yous?"

Taking a deep breath, Dylan sneered, "Well done. The next time I see you, it'll be on the battlefield!"

Twisting in mid-air, he Disapparated.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"So they want war after all," Harry said quietly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry," whispered Dylan, guilt coursing through his veins. "They just weren't willing to listen and reasoning with them after that didn't seem logical."

"Shh, it's not your fault," Daphne assured him, running her fingers through his hair as Dylan rested his head on her lap. Her eyes, though, were hard as steel. "You tried your best."

"I guess what the Elvin Queen said was true," he said wryly. "They really _are_ unreasonable when it comes to magic."

"Well, at least now we know that we have exhausted all possibilities," sighed Harry. He rubbed his temples with his fingers, trying to calm himself. "Still no luck?"

"No," Daphne said through gritted teeth. "Look at these ward schemes!"

Dylan grabbed the magical computer device and frowned when he tried to comprehend the meaning and purpose of the various arithmetical equations and runes.

"I don't recognize this configuration," he said flatly. "Where was it installed?"

"That's the thing," Harry said quietly. "We found this particular cluster of enchantments in every magical city in the world – including Sowilo City."

"What? That's impossible," snapped Dylan. "I don't recognize this, Harry, and no enchantment can be layered on the existing ones without my or Daphne's express authorization."

"I didn't order this either," Daphne added. "But that's not the only puzzle. Harry and I invented this ward scheme. Do you see this runic pattern? The specific magical output configured using regulated _Varasma_ flow? That has Harry's signature all over it. That's his style. And this protection formula is the one I invented."

"But you're not able to remember what is it?"

Harry exhaled in frustration. "No. I've meditated on this several times, but I haven't been able to find a specific answer."

"We couldn't have been Obliviated, so that means another form of magic is involved," Daphne piped in.

"I can't think of any other charm that can replicate the effects of an Obliviation better than the Fidelius," said Dylan a few moments later.

"That was our guess too," Harry replied, pacing the length of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists in frustration. "But the Fidelius hides a physical secret. This isn't physical."

Daphne frowned. "Not necessarily. Have you forgotten how your ancestors hid the name of Peverell using a modified version of the Fidelius Charm?"

Harry stroked his chin, contemplating the situation. "If that's the case, we won't be able to find out what is being hidden until we find the Secret Keeper."

"Granger?"

" … Perhaps."

He gazed out of the open window and let his mind wander.

 _'_ _Where are you, Granger? What are you up to? What are you hiding? How did you manage this? Just when I thought I had one over you, you manage to complicate my life yet again. Who is helping you?'_

Dylan turned to face his sister-in-law. "When will the temporal runic array be ready?"

There was a _beep_ as the communication device lodged in Daphne's ear activated. She listened attentively for several seconds. "It's ready now," she replied.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The citizens of Sowilo City were waiting with bated breath as the runes activated.

"Steady," Vice-Admiral Padma Patil instructed, checking the power levels constantly.

"All protective enchantments are in place. We're good to go."

"The runes are fully changed, ma'am."

"Create the time bubble," she ordered.

Harry was stoic as he watched from the distance. James was standing next to him, clutching him as if his life depended on it.

"We're going to be fine, Jamie," Harry assured the boy softly.

James buried his face in his father's chest. "I know," he said, his voice muffled.

Smiling faintly, running his fingers through his son's dark hair, Harry observed the spectacular phenomenon. The air shimmered for miles on end as the enchantments activated. A physical bubble formed around the city.

Operation 24 had begun.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _One day later …_**

 ** _London, England_**

"Are you sure our weapons are powerful enough?" asked the Defence Secretary.

Hermione sighed. _If they ask me the same question one more time …_

"Yes, they'll be enough to conquer Potter's forces," she replied for what seemed like the hundredth time. "We have enhanced the weapon systems on the fighter jets and the bigger military aeroplanes. We have also provided shielding to them. It's not just yours; we have done the same to several other militaries as well. You should easily be able to hold your own against their assaults."

"And what if we can't?"

"Then I'll think of something."

 _Hopefully, that something will never involve nuclear weapons._

"I'll ready the troops," the Defence Secretary said. "And from what our intelligence agencies have told me, many other countries are getting ready for war too."

"Not to worry," the Prime Minister said, waving his hand dismissively. "With the combined air power of several different military powers around the world, we are sure to win. Just keep them on standby so that we can launch an attack."

"Sir, do you think Potter will attack London?"

"I'm sure he will, once he has been pressured into attacking us," the Chief of the Defence Staff answered.

The Prime Minister leaned forward with interest. "What do you suggest?"

"None of us knows how wizards fight," he answered. When Hermione opened her mouth in protest, he beat her to it. "No offence, Miss Granger, but I doubt Potter and his men will be using any conventional tactics. I suggest that we test them. Knowledge is power, Prime Minister, and should we engage the enemy in battle, we'll know their strengths and weaknesses."

"Why can't we simply bomb the hell out of them as soon as they begin their attack?" the Defence Secretary offered. "I doubt they'll be able to handle so many jets dropping explosives on them."

"That tactic won't work during the first confrontation," Hermione butted in.

"And why not?" the man asked furiously.

"It won't work because that's exactly what he'll expect you to do," she shot back. "Don't forget that witches and wizards have the power to Apparate, meaning we can instantly move from one place to another. Should Potter get even a glimpse of the Royal Air Force heading towards his position, he'll simply move away and launch an attack from the opposite direction. You'll simply be wasting valuable resources. Potter knows that."

Momentary silence greeted her. The Chief bit his lip in contemplation.

"If these wizards can appear out of thin air, what's the guarantee that they won't simply waltz into London and seize the city?"

"And what would that accomplish?" asked the Prime Minister, raising his eyebrows. "Security in the capital has never been this high in history! Besides, a hit-and-run approach may work on a short-term basis, but it won't do well in the long run. It's an elementary mistake. No, if he's smart, he'll surround London and form a blockade so that we can't escape. Without help, it is easier to exert his influence over the masses or destroy them. We need to think from _that_ angle."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said Hermione slowly, "but you do have an impressive infantry unit with tanks and missile vehicles. Maybe that'll work against him. One of my teams did provide shielding to them as well; not sure which country, though. However, some of your weapons have definitely been enhanced with magic. Those will prove to be quite useful against Potter's forces."

"That's a good idea. We can use that time to assess the enemy's weaknesses. Once we have figured that out, we can launch a more powerful strike by bringing the air force into the picture."

"Then it's settled," the Prime Minister said finally. "Prepare the men."

"Yes sir!"

"We still need to provoke Potter into launching an attack," the Defence Secretary said quietly.

The Prime Minister nodded in agreement and turned towards Hermione. "Let's discuss the location of various magical settlements in the U.K., shall we?"

Hermione got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Twenty-four years later within the temporal bubble …_**

 ** _Sowilo City_**

Fifty-two-year-old Harry James Potter stood in the balcony of the palace, off his bedroom, overlooking the skyline of Sowilo City. It was nighttime. The breeze ruffled his hair and he shivered slightly as he felt the cool air on his bare chest, his skin still wet due to the shower he had just taken. He was leaning against the railing, completely nude, his gaze resting on the golden dome of magic that encircled the city walls. He could hear the constant murmur of voices from below. Druids were performing rituals, seeking the blessings of Mother Magic for a swift victory. This was their last night within the safe confines of the temporal bubble. It would be deactivated tomorrow, and they would go to war.

Anyone who would see him in this state would swear that he was no older than eighteen, a teenager just out of school. But Harry knew that it was not so. The unblemished body he had when he was a young man was replaced by scars on his upper torso. Hard muscles had developed due to the intense training sessions he took part in every day with the rest of the army. They were a testament to his experience and skills as a warrior. He wore them as a badge of honour.

Harry felt someone slap his bum playfully. Strong arms wrapped themselves around his torso from behind and Harry couldn't help but smile. "Hello, wife," he said softly.

"Hello to you too, husband," Daphne replied, the moonlight illuminating her face. She did not meet his eyes, nor did she stand next to him, choosing instead to hug him from behind. Her fingers delicately trailed the v-lines along his lower abdomen.

"I'm not going to fall for your tricks after these many years, Daph."

"Oh, who says I'm trying to manipulate you through sex?" she teased, nuzzling his neck, her fingers gently caressing his balls, knowing that he enjoyed it. Harry shivered in pleasure.

"I know you."

"Do you?" she whispered in his ear. Before Harry could process what she had in mind, she had pushed him on a conjured bed on the balcony floor, her hand gripping his erect penis, stroking it.

"Again?" smiled Harry, a teasing glint in his eye. "Were the three times this morning not enough for you, love?"

Daphne didn't answer. Harry spread his legs and leaned back against the pillows as she gently sucked on his erection, one hand holding his length and the other cupping his balls, fondling them. For several minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were the slurping sounds she made as she gave him a blowjob. Harry was thoroughly enjoying it.

"H-How do y-you do that?" he gasped. His leg was twitching and it wasn't long before he came, panting heavily.

"Your turn!"

His wife laughed. Harry smirked at her before leaning down to kiss her slowly. Their lips moved in sync, their souls were filled with warmth and love. His lips travelled lower, sucking on her nipples while his hands squeezed her breasts, making her arch her back in pleasure. Slowly making his way down, he placed each of his hands on her thighs and lowered his head, enjoying the process of orally pleasuring his wife.

"W-What is it with you a-and the b-balcony?" moaned Daphne. She could hear muffled chuckles from between her legs, but the hissing sound didn't stop. She could feel her husband's vibrating tongue licking her clit. With great effort, she pushed his head away. Harry kissed his way up to her lips while positioning himself over her.

"Oh, Daphne!" he groaned as inch by inch, his thick cock was engulfed by her wet heat until he was buried to the hilt. She moaned in pleasure when he slowly moved his hips, gently kissing and sucking on her neck.

"Faster, Harry," she whined.

"No," he whispered in her ear, panting heavily. "I want to remember this when I'm on the battlefield. I want to remember the happiest moments I've shared with my wife, should our theory about the Deathly Hallows be proven wrong."

Daphne's eyes snapped open. She could see the uncertainty in those beautiful green orbs. They simply stared at each other for a few moments before Harry resumed thrusting in and out of her vagina. Their lovemaking was slow and sensual, filling their souls with need.

Even though their responsibilities were numerous and their schedules very hectic, the couple always did their best to find some time for themselves. They loved their family dearly, but these tender moments with each other was what kept them from imploding due to stress.

Daphne moans got louder. Harry's thrusts were still slow but for once, she seemed to enjoy it. For quite some time, the only sounds that could be heard apart from the wind were their soft sounds of ecstasy and the slap of skin against skin. Finally reaching his peak, Harry increased the pace of his thrusts and he could feel the pressure mounting. He and Daphne cried out each other's names in pleasure as they achieved orgasm, the entire palace trembling slightly due to their combined magical powers.

Harry was breathing hard as he collapsed next to his wife on a conjured bed, his flaccid cock slipping out of her vagina. Daphne was panting too as she buried her face in his sweaty chest, her eyes half-closed. For several minutes, they enjoyed the silence and post-orgasmic bliss, content with being in each other's arms.

"Daph, can I ask you something?"

"Uh-huh."

"Are you scared?"

Daphne raised her head and looked at him. "About?"

"Our people. The Republic. Our children."

 _Not them. Not Dylan. The three of them didn't matter. All that was important was their cause and the people that depended on them._

"What if we aren't successful?" asked Harry, a hint of insecurity creeping into his voice. "What if something goes wrong?"

"People die during wartime," Daphne said quietly. "But as long as we're careful, we can minimize the casualties. The Republic will be strong; we have laid the groundwork for it over the past two decades. As for our children … Harry, Charlie and Bella are well-trained soldiers. They're capable of taking care of themselves. Also, James will be fine. He'll be well protected with the rest of the intellectuals."

"But –"

"We can't forever be their shield," she said patiently, cupping his face lovingly. "They're grown adults. They're married! They'll always be our children, but you have to learn to accept the fact that we need to move on. Only if we start now will we come to terms with it, whether in battle tomorrow or a century later."

Harry couldn't help but reflect on the lives of their children. All three of them had grown into outstanding people. Charlie, having always been driven by the physical arts and offensive magic, was nicknamed Dylan's protégé. His skills were unchallenged by his peers and his sound military foresight made even his seniors listen to him. With a calm mind, he was the source of inspiration for the younger members of the military. He held the rank of Commander in the Grand Army of the Magical Republic. His love life, however, was quite interesting. He was married to the crown princess of the Veela, a woman seven months his senior. Although his marriage had been for political reasons, he and his wife, Princess Rachelle, had bonded over time. She too was a seasoned warrior and the two of them drew strength from their shared interests. Harry knew that Charlie, while initially indifferent to marriage, was now deeply in love with his wife. He was thirty-three years old.

Belladonna, on the other hand, was a known marvel when it came to flying. She had quickly been selected for the _Vaayu Corps_ , the air strike team, where her skills in piloting were put to good use. This, of course, was after she and her brothers had finished school. She too was a Commander and had a squadron of fighters under her wing. She had fallen in love and had gotten married to Rigel Black. While the two of them hadn't been anything more than family friends since childhood, their bond had deepened over the years. Harry wondered how Sirius would feel about that. After all, while the two of them were not strictly blood-related, the man did consider Belladonna as a granddaughter, and it might be awkward for him to get used to the fact that she was now actually his daughter-in-law.

James had always been the intellectual in the family. While he wasn't as strong as his siblings physically, his brain more than compensated for it. He was the wunderkind of the Department of Mysteries and had been personally involved in the creation of many of their inventions. The boy was practically a genius. James had caught the eye of a girl around his age who turned out to be a Muggle-born orphan that was taken in by the department due to her intellect. The girl, Ophelia, was well-known for her skills in Charms and Arithmancy and had, at one point, been Daphne's apprentice. The two shy kids had been friends since they were ten years old, and over time, their confidence and being at ease in their own skin made them confess their love to each other. They were now married, having earned the respect of many in Sowilo City.

Just thinking about it made Harry realise once more that his little kids had indeed grown up.

"You're right," he murmured. Daphne, taking note that he was upset, placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"You know that Dylan and I will be with you, right?"

"Always?"

"To the end of time."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The command centre of the Department of Mysteries was in a highly restricted building, right in the middle of Sowilo City. The room that housed the highest ranking officers was abuzz with activity. The temporal runes would be deactivated within the next three hours and they needed a new plan of action.

"Chancellor, Admiral," said Dylan loudly as he spotted his brother and sister-in-law entering the room. He thumped his chest with a closed fist and bowed, executing a full military salute, followed by his troops.

"At ease," Harry nodded at them. "Begin your briefing, General."

Dylan waved his hand. A blue-coloured three-dimensional figure of the planet appeared in-between them. E-Mirrors had long since been replaced by newer forms of magical technology. The entire room was silent as they waited for him to speak.

"As you all know, the Grand Army of the Republic is divided into two segments; one, the infantry unit that will attack on foot. The second is the Republic fleet that will attack from space."

The hologram of the Earth disappeared, giving rise to twenty-one warships. They were two designs; one was the Dreadnought-class, comprising of three ships. Massive in proportion, spanning nearly five thousand meters in length and armed to the teeth with weapons, they were sleek and shaped like a dagger. They would serve as the command ship for the General, Admiral and the Chancellor. The other eighteen vessels were the Chasseur-class starships. These too were dagger-shaped, but were smaller, measuring about one thousand meters in length and with lesser firepower. However, they were more manoeuvrable than their bigger counterparts, which was why six of these destroyers would be acting as support vessels to each of their command ships.

"Apart from these warships, we also have a large contingent of fighters," explained Dylan. "These small vessels will be very quick and armed with weapons. Considering the number of aircrafts the Muggles have at their disposal, taking them out with speed and accuracy is easier than letting our larger ships handle it."

"The Republic fleet will not be brought into action until the right time," Daphne took over. "The magical technology on these vessels, especially the _Tachys_ drive, has not been tested yet. Also, it is not viable to give away our advantage this soon into the war, for we don't know how long it will last."

"It is more prudent to test the waters before getting fully involved," said a Vampire Lord quietly, nodding along.

"Which is the right place to begin our campaign?" asked Harry.

A goblin, Captain Snarktooth, cleared his throat. "We have identified these four places where we can begin attack using our infantry – the United States, Western Europe, Russia and China."

Harry stroked his chin. "If they team up together, we could have a problem," he observed. "Should India and China work together in Asia, and Russia, Ukraine and any neighbouring countries form an alliance in Eastern Europe, we would be forced to retreat. We can't go up against so many of their soldiers without backup from the fleet."

"I don't think we need to worry about that," said Nicolas Flamel.

"Why not?"

"Because the countries in question consider each other enemies," another female Elf answered. "The relations between Russia and Ukraine, and India and China are nowhere good enough for them to form an alliance in such a short time. I think Captain Snarktooth's plan has merit."

"Even so, what makes you think they won't simply send their military jets to fire on us?" asked a voice from behind.

Belladonna looked thoughtful. "If they do overwhelm you, I'm sure our fighters can handle them. A surprise attack from the air, while you're engaging them on the ground, would be an efficient plan."

"Reinforcements might be necessary at one point during the battle," Charlie agreed, joining in. "But I suggest we keep that as the last resort. Let's see how we fare on our feet first. We need to manipulate them into fearing us. That will work to our advantage. Remember that Lord Voldemort used the same tactic during his first rise to power. His Death Eaters wore masks and attacked in the dead of the night. Anyone caught saying his name would be killed. That sort of psychological damage broke the citizens of Avalon in a matter of months. I'm not saying that we should wear masks or attack with stealth, but should our initial campaign be declared a success, the Muggles would be overwhelmed."

"I like it," said Daphne. "But you all need to understand the purpose of this conflict. With the existence of magic now known to the Muggles, we have no way to go back underground. This is a fight for our very existence. At the same time, this is much more than that. The Muggles, due to their environmental pollution, are quickly destroying the planet. We _cannot_ let that happen, for this is our home too! They are destroying the rivers, the forests, the wildlife and most importantly, the atmosphere. Should we fail, it won't be long before a natural disaster obliterates all life on Earth. This is what we're fighting for."

"Well said," praised Perenelle Flamel. "Our goal is to cripple their militaries so that we can get them to sign a treaty. Once the Muggles promise to stop using their fossil fuels that harm the planet and keep their dirty hands away from us, we'll retreat. Is everyone clear on this?"

"What is going to stop them from simply disregarding the treaty once they sign it? I honestly doubt they'd comply with the terms of the agreement!"

"Fear can be a powerful ally," answered Harry quietly. "That's what the Commander meant when he said that we need to target them psychologically through the battles we fight. Just seeing the massive Republic fleet in the sky will be enough to make them reconsider their actions, especially when their militaries are destroyed. The future of this planet is vital. The lives of every species depend on it."

"Confirming assignments," said Dylan briskly. "The Chancellor will be leading the strike team in Western Europe. Commander Potter, you're being assigned to Chancellor's team."

Charlie nodded.

"Commander Vlad," he addressed the Vampire Lord, "Russia. Captain Snarktooth, China. I'll be handling the United States."

"Is everyone clear on this?" Daphne pressed. "Timing is of the utmost essence. The fleet will be in space, testing the _Tachys_ system. We will be able to provide backup only after the warships are fully operational. Your teams need to hold your own until we provide backup."

"We're ready, Admiral," said a young Veela male confidently.

"Let's do it," Harry announced.

" _For the Republic!_ "

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"She's a real beauty," commented Dylan, his eyes trailing the last of the warships as they disappeared from sight. "I can't wait to see her in action."

"I know what you mean," Charlie said, smiling faintly, "though I personally prefer the smaller Chasseur-class warships as compared to the larger Dreadnought-class ones."

"They were both designed for a reason, Charlie. The smaller ones give us manoeuvrability while the larger ones have higher firepower. In battle, we need both."

"True."

"What's their status?"

"The ships have avoided detection when they took off and they're now past the planet's atmosphere. They'll be here once they finish the final stage of testing."

"Good," Dylan nodded. "Let's go. We have a battle to win."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _London, England_**

"Do you have the exact coordinates?" the Prime Minister pressed. "We won't get a second chance."

"Sir, these are the coordinates Granger gave us. Our initial scans couldn't pick up anything, but with her – ahem – _abilities_ , we managed to locate their capital city."

The Prime Minister grinned. "Good. I'm surprised that she agreed to help at all."

The Defence Secretary rolled his eyes. "She's quite easy to manipulate once you know where to push the right buttons. She practically worships authority figures. Just say something on the lines of ' _we need to stop Harry Potter_ ', and ' _this is what Ivan Krum would have done_ ', and she'll fall for it hook, line and sinker."

"Oh, yes, I know. She truly is a blessing."

"Shall I order our men to fire?"

"Please do."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Avalon Minister of Magic Sirius Black was sitting in the balcony of his office in Camelot, sipping from a glass of tea as he read his son's letters. For Sirius, it had only been a day, but for Rigel, it had been twenty-four years, and during all this time, he had written letters to his father, intending to deliver them all after the temporal runes were deactivated.

 _'_ _Rigel and Belladonna?'_ Sirius gave a watery chuckle, wiping the tears from his eyes. _'Well, stranger things have happened. I can't believe our little boy is married! Oh, how I wish you were still here to witness this, Amelia.'_

Just as he was about to take another sip, a siren blared all across the city, with red lights flashing. He looked up in confusion and spotted a dozen missiles flying towards their position. His eyes widened.

They were under attack!

There was no time to alert anyone but Sirius was confident that the wards would prevent any damage; after all, they had anticipated an attack. He watched as the missiles impacted an invisible shield and detonated, the sky turning red on impact. Normally, that should have been the end of it, but Sirius was shocked to discover that the ground was shaking. The temperature was rising and within seconds, he could feel the wards beginning to buckle.

This was no ordinary Muggle bomb! It was clearly magical!

The Department of Mysteries had instructed every magical city in the world to power their anti-Muggle defence wards to their full power but nobody had said anything about a _magical_ attack. Those enchantments were not fully activated since the conflict was not between two magical races. More magic had been diverted to power other enchantments that were to protect the cities from Muggle attacks.

That had been a blunder.

Sirius was quickly whisked away by his team of bodyguards but the city of Camelot was in chaos. Some of the buildings had caught fire due to the blast and people were panicking everywhere. Aurors and Hit-Wizards rushed to help as they Portkeyed several injured citizens to the hospital.

The moment Sirius was transported to his secured office, deep underground, used only during emergencies, he got to work. There was much to be done. Most importantly, he had to alert Sowilo City. Every magical settlement in the world would need to be protected at all costs. Muggle technology was not the only threat they were facing. Even if all their equipment had to be replaced on a daily basis due to excessive use, there was no other option but to power every protective enchantment that was burned into the ward script. It was something that was never done due to it being considered excessive and wasteful but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Kingsley," Sirius said in a low voice, addressing the new head of the D.M.L.E. "Get the intelligence wing to collect fragments of the debris left behind by the missiles."

The former Auror's eyes narrowed. "You suspect it too?" he asked. "Muggle explosives should never have penetrated our shields."

"Inform Harry and Dylan about this," Sirius ordered. "If you need me, I'll be on Level Ten. I need to speak to the head of the Department of Mysteries. None of our settlements shall be attacked again; not on my watch. I won't let more innocent people die because of this conflict."

Kingsley nodded briskly and the two wizards walked out of the room, heading in different directions.

The war had begun.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _AN: I apologise for the late update. I've been very busy lately and didn't find the time to edit and then upload the rest of this fic. I would like to warn my readers that the next chapter has dark themes in them, as it describes the battle between wizards and Muggles._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, everyone, and on to the next chapter and the epilogue._**


	58. Endgame

**_Chapter 58_**

 ** _Endgame_**

Daphne watched as the massive starships around her gently floated in space, displayed by the monitoring enchantments. The past twenty-four years had been spent designing and producing warships to help win the war. She was standing on what represented the pinnacle of magical innovation. Hull made of a reinforced goblin alloy, powered by _Varasma_ and Elvin alchemy, armed with wizarding weapons and fit with a piece of technology that was beyond their wildest expectations … the entire population of Sowilo City should go down in history as the greatest ever.

The weapon systems were a much more advanced form of her original invention, the _Asthron_. Along with that, they were also equipped with _Varasma_ torpedoes, an evolved form of her _Varasma_ -infused _Asthron_. The beauty of the ship, however, was the _Tachys_ drive, a technology that was created using the magic of Apparition travel.

Apparition made a person travel large distances by warping space, time and magic around them. This technology was based on the same principle, only it was not a person, but a starship that would travel great distances at high speeds.

They had named it the _Tachys_ drive, which in Greek, meant 'swift'. She couldn't be more proud. Her department's ideas regarding _Tachys_ travel had started a new era in magical technology.

"My Lady," said the wizard wearing a navy-blue uniform. "We have crossed the planet's atmosphere without being detected. We're ready."

"Acknowledged," said Daphne. She waved a hand and a three-dimensional figure of her son appeared.

"Report, James."

" _Varasma_ flow is stable and the _Tachys_ systems are at peak efficiency," he replied briskly.

Daphne checked her calculations once again. She couldn't find anything wrong with them. She took a deep breath as she stood in the middle of the ship's bridge.

"Engage," she ordered. She felt the anxiety of everyone present. The screen in front of her contorted. Any second now …

With a massive movement, the starship slipped into the _Tachys_ vortex, with stars blurring past her as they travelled at interstellar speeds.

The _Tachys_ drive was a success. Everyone on the bridge cheered and Daphne too couldn't help but smile.

"Take us out of the vortex. Adjust our course and heading. We need to get back home."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry twirled and twisted in mid-air as he avoided the bullets coming his way. They were on the outskirts of London, where the battle had commenced. He had received intelligence from Sowilo City that informed him that the other teams around the world had engaged the enemy as well, and that Camelot, Godric's Hollow and Hogsmeade had all been attacked by Muggles. He still didn't know how many were injured due to the attack, or worse, dead.

Knowing that simply launching an attack on the city would be useless and would needlessly shed blood, Harry had divided his forces into five teams, four of them taking out the British army in different directions surrounding London. The fifth, however, was tasked to Apparate directly into the city and apprehend the top-brass, and hopefully, root out Hermione Granger and her group of rebels.

Speaking of rebels …

"Traitors," growled Charlie under his breath as he duelled five witches and wizards at the same time. While Hermione had decided not to participate in the battle, the other members of Dumbledore's Army had no such qualms. They had divided their numbers and were quickly posing a problem for the Republic army. After all, more than a hundred witches and wizards amidst thousands of Muggles could do a lot of damage.

"Watch out for the tanks!" Harry yelled.

"I see it!" Charlie replied. Dodging it quickly, his wand slashing in the air repeatedly, he raised his hand and cried, "Team, charge!"

The army yelled, "For the Republic!" as they moved with swiftness and efficiency. They were outnumbered twenty to one, but they were still holding their ground.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Sir, we need to send the fighter jets!" cried the Defence Secretary.

"Not yet," said the Prime Minister. "It's a trap. They want us to use the air force. In this day and age, without jets, we'll be crippled. I'm not going to fall for it. Had I known we would one day be attacked by _wizards_ , I would have insisted that we invest less in the navy and more on the airforce."

"I'll go fight him," said Hermione, her eyes blazing with anger.

"We can't lose you, Hermione, you're too valuable."

"Are you saying that I can't handle it?"

"I'm saying that you should think logically," the Prime Minister said in a condescending tone. "I'm sure you are a very talented woman, but if what Krum said was true and if I were to believe my own eyes," he pointed towards the large television screen, a drone from the battlefield transmitting the video to them, "then Potter is exceptional. I don't wish to lose you. You're staying here."

"Send another battalion to the front lines," he ordered. "Keep Potter occupied until we can force him to retreat. If we didn't surrender to Hitler during the Blitz, we bloody hell won't surrender to a freak like Harry Potter!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Three missiles from the launch vehicle flew towards them rapidly. Harry raised his arms and concentrated. With some effort, he managed to halt the weapons in mid-air. Turning them around, he _pushed_ , sending them back where they came from. There was an explosion from the enemy's side and Harry smiled when as the launch vehicles and two tanks were destroyed.

"Great shot, Chancellor!" shouted a young Vampire. Unfortunately, there was another attack which the female didn't sense and before he knew it, the Vampire was dead. Green eyes darkened with anger as Harry moved forward.

"Charlie, focus on the tanks," he ordered through the communication device.

"On it!"

Running in a zigzag pattern to avoid the blasts of the tanks, Charlie and Harry shot destructive curses at them. With a _boom_ , they exploded. A majority of the Muggle soldiers were shot down by the magical races while the rest scrambled for cover, trying to get a clear shot on their enemies, a tactic that soon proved to be futile.

The first wave of the battle ended with a victory for the Magical Republic.

"Move!" shouted Charlie. "We're pressing our attack into the city! Disapparate on my mark!"

Harry didn't follow them but with barely a whisper, he Disapparated as well.

 _Team Epsilon_ had found them.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Sir, we're losing the battle," the Defence Secretary said heatedly. "We need to send the air force to deal with this mess! Our infantry isn't able to combat Potter's forces."

The Prime Minister was in a state of shock. The drone that had been monitoring the battle led by Harry Potter had transmitted everything perfectly until it had been destroyed by an angry Veela. The way Potter and his group fought … the Prime Minister's legs started trembling. Never before had he felt this terrified.

For the first time, he realised that they were dealing with wizards, _actual_ witches and wizards, who had control over an arcane force that he had never understood.

He had underestimated them.

"Sir?"

"Send the fighter jets," he said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. "All of them! I want those freaks destroyed!"

The Defence Secretary sighed in relief and barked instructions to his men. He was filled with rage. So many of their soldiers had died … he couldn't help but throw a nasty glare at Hermione Granger.

"I suppose you are happy?" he spat.

"Excuse me?" Hermione blinked in surprise.

"This is all _your_ fault!" he screamed. "You were the one who bloody showed up on our doorstep without invitation, forcing us to act. Had you simply stayed away, we might have been able to avoid this stupid conflict! I ought to put a bullet through your head for your stupidity!"

"Andrew!" hissed the Prime Minister.

"How was any of this my fault?" Hermione shot back. Fear was creeping into her too, making her voice tremble. "I only wanted you to help those poor children that Potter had kidnapped!"

"Oh, who the hell cares about those stupid freaks?" spat the Defence Secretary. "As far as I'm concerned, your entire race should be hunted to extinction!"

"Calm yourselves, both of you!" the Prime Minister shouted. Taking a deep breath, he said, "We shouldn't be fighting. We have a war to win and infighting will only make it easier for Potter to –"

"Oh, it's definitely making it a lot easier."

The three of them spun around and paled when they saw that they were surrounded. The military base they were in was swarming with Potter's soldiers and the man in question was standing proudly in front of them, looking like an emperor who was about to judge the traitors.

"I thought you would be keeping a close watch on your bunker," Harry said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "But you didn't. Despite your talent and intelligence, Granger, but you once again fell into the trap of thinking like a Muggle. You don't even have Anti-Apparition wards cast around the perimeter of the building. If this is how you've been hiding, then I really gave you too much credit."

"Murderer," spat Hermione, struggling against the magical binds that the soldiers had conjured.

Harry's face darkened. "Me?" he said quietly. " _I'm_ the murderer? Who's accusing who, Granger? After all, it was you and that bastard Krum who orchestrated the attack that killed Algernon Croaker and my mother, not to mention nearly killed my then eight-year-old son!"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but found that she had been silenced.

"You know, Granger, I had a big speech ready for you, about how wrong you were and why your actions have caused so much damage. But sometimes, I think _seeing_ it is better than hearing simple words."

Hermione flinched as he loomed over her. Maintaining eye-contact, Harry forced Legilimency on her as he transmitted his thoughts to her. He showed her the prophecy, the failure of the Muggles, the deception of Krum, and how she had destroyed any hope for peace when she revealed the existence of magic before the United Nations.

 _Images are better than words;_ this certainly applied to her. The reality of the situation finally sunk in as Harry stopped showing her the memories. He stepped back and observed her, still processing everything he had seen in her mind. The fact that she had used magic to help the Muggle air force and weapons worried him; that would not be good for the Republic. It also explained how their cities had been attacked. However, there was also something else she was hiding … something he could not clearly see.

"No," she croaked out, her skin milk-white due to panic. "You're lying!"

Harry expression remained impassive. He didn't even spare the Prime Minister and his Defence Secretary a second glance. Their fates were sealed, anyway.

"I don't care if you believe me or not, but you should know that I don't lie. What I showed you was the truth. The Muggles are destroying the planet with their actions, and unless we do something about it, none of us will survive the inevitable destruction that that nature will heap upon us."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge the consequences of her actions. Part of her was mortified because she could understand that her betrayal was what actually started it all. Had she not approached the Prime Minister, things would not have escalated to this scale.

Harry briefly glanced at the Muggles who were glaring at him hatefully yet fearfully, trying desperately to free themselves from the magical binds. He paid them no mind.

"Leave them here," he ordered. "Get our people out. We're destroying this bunker."

"Yes sir!"

He turned back to Hermione. "I don't understand why you think I'm a Dark Lord. I'm fighting this war in order to protect my people. You just never embraced the magical world to see us as yours. For such a smart woman, you're incredibly stupid, Granger. You're so blinded by your own superiority and by your fascination with authority figures like Dumbledore and Krum that you never realised that there is more to the picture. Do you honestly think this man, the Prime Minister, wanted to help the people of the magical world? He was only using you for his selfish goals."

"You _are_ a Dark Lord!" screamed Hermione. "You've destroyed my life! My parents, my husband, Mr Krum … they're all gone because of you!"

Harry shook his head in disgust. There was no arguing with her. Her mind was set and there was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise.

"What are you hiding, Granger?" he asked keenly.

When he sensed her rising panic, he took another peek into her mind. Harry's eyes narrowed as he put the pieces together.

"Daphne was right. It _was_ you who cast the Fidelius Charm," he whispered to himself, ignoring the startled gasp that escaped Hermione's lips. "No wonder we were unable to find out what those protective enchantments were to be used for. You'd locked away the secret. Well, are you going to tell me what is it?"

The brunette simply glared at him, refusing to speak. Harry was not surprised.

"Fine. Have it your way. Goodbye, Granger."

"No!" Hermione whimpered. The knowledge of nuclear technology that was safely stored in her mind would soon be back in the open. And should that information make its way to Harry Potter's mind –

 _BOOM!_

Harry walked away from the debris – or lack thereof, due to the _Varasma_ -infused _Asthron_ – with a stoic face as his soldiers followed.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes widened. The Fidelius Charm had been destroyed with the Secret Keeper, and the said secret was back in the open.

 _Nuclear weapons …_

"That bitch!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Similar attacks were taking place all over the world. Harry's team had fought in Britain, while other teams fought in the United States, Russia and China. The one in North America was led by General Dylan Lestrange.

"This isn't going to be easy," he muttered. "If I didn't know better, I could swear that these weapons were enhanced by magic."

He was sweating profusely; the battle was becoming deadly. Even though they were winning, they were still losing people. It was costly, as losing even a single soldier could put them that much closer to defeat.

"Retreat!" ordered Dylan. "Apparate further north! We'll attack them in a semi-circular pattern from behind!"

"General, reinforcements have arrived!"

Dylan whipped his head to the side and couldn't help but grin. Fighters were approaching, but they were not American Muggle military bombers.

They were magical and belonged to the Republic. Jets of light impacted the Muggles as they scrambled for cover, but the curses being fired were not giving them room to retreat. Tanks, helicopters and missile launch vehicles blew up spectacularly.

The communication device in his ear activated.

 _"Hey, Uncle Dylan,"_ Belladonna chirped _. "You look like you could use some help."_

The General chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that," he said sheepishly. "Get the transport ships here, Bella. We're retreating."

 _"Understood. I'll order my squadron to maintain fire on the tanks so that you can get your people out of here."_

"Is the fleet in orbit?"

 _"Yes, our test was a success."_

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Admiral, we're in orbit," said the Elf.

"Open a channel to the fleet," said Daphne.

"Yes ma'am. _Endeavour Command_ to the fleet – all communication channels open!"

"This is Admiral Potter. Target all your weapons on the satellites orbiting the planet. Destroy them."

"Acknowledged. _Asthrons_ ready; the fleet is standing by. Awaiting final orders from _Endeavour Command_ to begin attack."

"Fire!" she ordered.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Wow!" shouted Charlie, adrenalin pumping through his veins. "Now that's what I call a battle!"

His wife smirked at him, her Veela heritage giving her an angelic voice as she spoke to him, "My squadron destroyed eight tanks."

"Yeah? Tough luck, love, because mine destroyed ten!"

"Does that include missile-launch vehicles? Because my team took out five of those! And what was your score? Two, I believe?"

Charlie pouted.

Harry stood silently, ignoring them. Many were chuckling at their antics as the couple continued to banter playfully but he was not amused, still in a state of shock at what he had discovered.

 _Nuclear weapons …_ After twenty-four years, they still hadn't been prepared enough because they had forgotten about nuclear weapons thanks to the Fidelius Charm.

He exhaled. The transport ship crossed the planet's atmosphere. From the window, he could see the debris of the destroyed satellites. No doubt the Muggles were going crazy due to lack of proper communication channels.

Finally, the Republic fleet came into view. A proud smile formed on Harry's lips as he caught sight of the warships. Sleek in design and shaped like a dagger, the two classes of ships were a marvel to look at. The Dreadnought-class ship was five times as big as the Chasseur-class destroyers, but each had their own advantages and disadvantages. There were three of the former, each for him, Daphne and Dylan, and eighteen of the latter, six warships supporting each of the flagships. The transport ships docked in the main hangar of _the Dreadnought_ , his command ship, and Harry immediately headed towards the bridge.

"Captain, report!"

The goblin saluted respectfully when Harry entered the bridge. "The Muggle satellites have been destroyed, sir, but our scans indicate that several countries are launching a massive strike with the help of their air force."

Harry nodded. Pressing a button on the transparent glass computer screen, he contacted the other two vessels that were commanded by his brother and wife. The life-sized holograms of both of them appeared on the bridge.

"Daphne, Dylan, Captain Bloodfang has informed me that the Muggles are sending their air force to attack us. Do you see it?"

"Yes, Harry," Dylan nodded. "I'm taking the far side of the planet. I have a score to settle with the American Muggles."

"I'll handle the east," said Daphne. "Our fighters are armed and ready."

"Good," replied Harry. "Captain, ready our troops."

"Yes sir!" said Bloodfang and barked, "Battle-stations!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The General watched in silence as their enemies approached their position. Dylan activated the communication device as he spoke clearly, "Launch the first squadron. All ships, fire at will."

Belladonna hopped into her fighter as the doors to the main hangar aboard _the Resolute_ , her uncle's command ship, opened. As she took off, she could see that her twin brother was following her.

"That's a _lot_ of planes we need to destroy," he muttered through their holographic communication device.

And it was. Tens of thousands of fighter-jets, helicopters and transport aeroplanes were approaching their position.

"Come on, brother, where's your sense of adventure?" Belladonna teased.

"Back on the ground, where I could use a wand," grumbled Charlie.

"Are you scared?"

"You wish!"

"You two are acting like kids," said a new voice. A holographic image of James Potter appeared, looking amused. "How about a game?"

"A game, Jamie?"

"Yeah, let's see how many of those contraptions you can destroy. Whoever wins will be declared the winner."

Belladonna laughed. "Only _you_ can turn something as serious as a war into a game."

James smiled faintly. "As long as it helps," he confessed softly.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Take us into the lower atmosphere," ordered Harry. " _Dreadnought Command_ to the fleet; commence attack. All ships, fire at will!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _Washington D.C._**

"Mr President, you've got to see this!"

The man in question exhaled and gritted his teeth. "What now?" he muttered to himself. It was bad enough that communications were mostly shot due to the freaks destroying their satellites, but going by the tone of the Secretary of Defence, this was probably bad.

"We managed to get a picture of the enemy's vessel," he said grimly. "It's truly a monster ship."

The President's eyes widened when he saw the image. "How big is this thing?"

"Probably more than three miles long, sir. And it's coming from _space_."

"It's probably an illusion – a magic trick. Besides, I don't care even if it comes out of their ass," he said stubbornly. "Our air force is the best; they can take care of it."

The Secretary of Defence doubted it, but he kept his opinion to himself.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"James, what's the status of the reflective shielding?" asked Nicolas Flamel.

"We're working on it!"

"Hurry! We need to get them in orbit as soon as possible."

"Look, Mr Flamel," said James seriously, looking him dead in the eye. "I know that suddenly remembering the existence of the nuclear weapons has freaked you out but we're working as fast as we can. This is delicate technology, as you very well know. The enchantments have to be crafted carefully. We need time."

"We may not have it," the Elf replied grimly.

"In that case, we could use your help!"

Nodding his head, Nicolas joined his apprentice's son and their team in preparing the shielding devices.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Sir, we've been hit! Deck Four, Section Thirty-Six is in shambles!"

"Shields are down to sixty per cent!

"Increase magical flow to the dorsal enchantments to compensate!" Captain Bloodfang ordered.

"Well played, Granger," muttered Harry. "Daphne, Dylan, Granger and her team modified the Muggles' weapon systems. We're sustaining damage."

"Doesn't she have a nice way of hindering us, even in death?" snapped Daphne. _The Endeavour_ , her flagship, shuddered as another torpedo came close to the _Tachys_ system exhaust ports.

"Admiral, there's a pattern to their attacks! They're targeting our starboard ventral!"

"Keep our dorsal bow in the line of attack," she ordered. "Increase magical flow to the shield enchantments that power the vessel's starboard ventral. Continuous fire, starboard _Asthrons_."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Take us into a lower orbit."

"My Lady!" the commander gasped. "That will only bring us closer to their firing range."

"I know," Daphne smirked. "I have a plan."

Tapping the glass computer panel, she created a blue holographic image of the ship – or more specifically, a damaged ship.

"We're going to lay a trap for them," she said. "If we take _the Endeavour_ into a lower orbit and cast an illusionary charm on the hull, we can bait them into targeting us. Let them think that we're in serious trouble. Once they move closer, the Chasseur-class ships of the fleet can surround them in a circular formation, blocking their escape."

"We can launch surprise attacks using our fighters, launching them from _the Endeavour_ 's supposedly destroyed hangar while the rest of the fleet can fire on them from all directions," the commander nodded.

"Exactly," Daphne said. Turning towards the officers, she ordered, "Activate the illusion. Increase magical flow to aft shields. They'll surely target the exhaust ports, thinking the vessel will implode. Take us down!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"General, I see the command ship of their fleet dead ahead! It's shielded. Our fighters are unable to destroy it."

"I see it!" nodded Dylan. "Ready _Varasma_ torpedoes!"

"Ready."

"Take us about. I want to target the aeroplane's wings and engines."

" _Asthrons_ in position!"

"Launch torpedos in quick succession – one, two and three! Target the last one at the nose. Fire!"

Dylan watched as the torpedos flew rapidly towards the large aircraft, destroying its left wing, then the right wing and finally, the cockpit. The battle continued, with him directing his fleet against the assaults of the enemy ships.

"We're being surrounded by similar planes, General!"

"Full starboard roll, evasive manoeuvre _Lena-Seven!_ Fire!" ordered Dylan.

"There are several smaller ships approaching. Should I contact Commander Black's squadron?"

"I want the fighters of every squadron to act, not just Belladonna's. Open a channel. _Resolute Command_ to the fleet, this is General Lestrange. Execute defensive formation _Chakra_ , attack pattern _Dylan-Omega-One!_ "

"Ready, General!"

"Do it!"

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Minor damage reported on Deck Thirty-Two. Protective shields are holding."

"Come about to coordinates _six-clicks-east_ ," Harry ordered. "Ready _Varasma_ torpedoes, dispersal pattern _Potter-D-4_. Fire!"

"Direct hit! Seven large enemy aeroplanes have been destroyed!"

"Chancellor, we've got several more magically shielded aeroplanes approaching off our port bow. They're flanked by nearly one hundred fighter jets. Should we fire?"

"No. Execute evasive manoeuvre _Belladonna-One-Eight_ ; stall them for now." Harry turned towards Bloodfang.

"Captain, do we have more fighters in the hangar?"

"Yes, Your Excellency," the goblin answer. "I have two squadrons available."

"Good. Tell them to prepare. Don't fire on the Muggles directly. Let them think they have us. I want to draw them in. Once they're close enough, open the hangar doors. The sudden attack by _the Dreadnought's_ _Asthrons_ as well as the fighters will take them by surprise. Tell the other ships of our fleet to block their escape. They'll be trapped in all directions."

"Red Squadron, departure confirmed," said Bloodfang. "We're opening the launch doors … _now_."

Harry's lips curved into a smirk. "Begin the air strike. Fire all _Asthrons_ at the smaller vessels. Lock targets on the larger ones. Fire _Varasma_ torpedoes, attack pattern _Potter-Lamda-Four_."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

The battle continued. Even though the Muggle weapon systems were modified with magic, and although there were thousands of military planes, helicopters and jets, they just couldn't keep up with the superior firepower and speed of the magical fighters and warships. That was not to say that the wizards were not suffering casualties. One of the warships in Daphne's fleet had been damaged, and many fighter pilots had lost their lives in the skirmish as well.

However, it was clear as to who was winning the war.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Sir, we're out of options."

The U.S. President rubbed his face with his hands, cold sweat trickling down his brow. _How?_ They were the most advanced military in the world. How could these freaks take on not only the United States, but the combined militaries of every major country in the world?

"There is still one thing we can do," he said grimly. "I'm going to order a nuclear strike. Let's see what these freaks will do now."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"James, is it ready?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure if they'll work just as we expect them to," James answered. "These shields and enchantments were not designed with nuclear missiles in mind. We've only had a few hours to modify it, based on the schematics of the shields that protect all the magical cities down on the planet. _They_ were designed with nuclear weapons in mind, but _these_ on the other hand … I just hope they manage to absorb the effects as intended. This technology is twenty-four years old. If only we'd known about the nuclear missiles while we were still in the temporal bubble …"

"They're no point in crying over spilt potion," Nicolas sighed. "Daphne, the shields are ready. Tell our people to deploy them at the specified coordinates."

"Acknowledged."

There were multiple _cracks_ as the various Portkeys activated. The enchanted devices disappeared and re-appeared in space, orbiting the planet.

"Activating," muttered James. "I really hope we don't have to use these. I don't even want to think about my parents' reaction should something go wrong."

"Neither do I."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

Harry stood in the middle of _the Dreadnought's_ bridge, waiting for the next shoe to drop. For more than seventy-two hours, they had constantly battled against the Muggles' air force. He was tired, fatigued and under a lot of stress, with dark circles under his eyes. It was a relief when he felt an arm encircle his waist as his wife stood beside him. Dylan immediately moved to take charge as he communicated with the officers.

"Do you think it's time to send them a message?" asked Daphne.

He exhaled. "Dylan, open a channel. Try to tap into the Muggles' public communication grid."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Mr President! There's a message for you on the television!"

"What?"

The Secretary of Defence turned on the T.V. and the handsome face of a young man filled the screen.

" _Members and citizens of the United Nations_ ," he began, " _I am Harry Potter, the Supreme Chancellor of the International Magical Republic. I speak on behalf of my magical brethren. You have lost this war. Your army and your air force are crippled; your navy is useless against us. You should have listened to General Lestrange when he came to you with a peace accord. We did not want war; you forced this upon us when the British Prime Minister attacked multiple cities of Magical Britain, intending to kill all its citizens. The rest of you followed suit when you chose to attack us. As you can see, we will not sit idly by just because you can't deal with the fact that you aren't the only intelligent species that live on this planet_."

" _I'm offering you yet another chance. Surrender and you shall not be harmed. I will let you continue to live your lives the way you wish except for a few changes that I will demand from you, one of them being that you stop destroying the planet by using fossil fuels. You shall not cut down the forests and pollute rivers, nor will you hunt animals to extinction. These are my only demands and they're not negotiable. At least now, try for peace. Meet our demands, and our fleet will retreat. Our two worlds can separate once more, just like before."_

 _"Cease your activities that are harming the planet and we shall leave you alone. Resist us and continue destroying the environment, and we shall do what needs to be done to protect our home. It's time to realise that you're not the only ones who reside here. This planet is a nurturing mother to all of us. We will die before allowing you to destroy it for your own selfish interests."_

 _"You have one hour to reach a decision, after which I will come to you to discuss a treaty between the United Nations and the Magical Republic."_

 _"One hour …_ "

"Stop using oil!" roared the President. "The nerve of this man!"

"I assume you aren't going to accept the deal, sir?"

The President glared at him. The phone rang and he answered it. He smiled with grim satisfaction.

"Confirmation code _5-4-Alpha-3-8._ Launch confirmed."

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

"Mum, I'm detecting several nuclear warheads activating all over," said James. "Do we fire at the source?"

"And risk contaminating the planet? No. The magical shields will absorb the power of the missiles."

"I'm really not sure if they're going to work," James pleaded desperately. "I know you're brilliant, Mum, but we haven't tested these wards in more than two decades! Only now did we remember their very existence!"

Daphne sighed. "We really don't have a choice. A chronic nuclear explosion could affect all life on the planet; I'm not taking that risk. The radiation and the explosion _will_ be absorbed by the shield. That's how we designed it all those years ago. Trust me."

"They're not backing down … none of them! They've ignored your warning," said General Lestrange, turning back to look at his brother.

"Should I activate the shields to their full change?" asked Perenelle.

"Do it," Harry said quietly.

His green eyes were fixed on the screen as his words were implemented into action. His fists tightened, nails digging into his palm, releasing blood. Why couldn't the Muggles act reasonably for once?

Everyone watched with bated breath as one by one, the Muggles launched their nuclear weapons. Thousands of missiles took to the air, all heading towards the Republic fleet.

"That's overkill," Dylan stated. "And who knew the Muggles had hidden these weapons in every nook and cranny on the planet? So many of these countries are not even supposed to have nuclear weapons on their soil and yet …"

"It probably belongs to other countries," Harry said quietly. "I'm not surprised that they have secret launch sites all over the world. Though I have to wonder about the tactical advantage of this attack …"

"The Muggle leaders are not used to being cornered like this, with one or the other country having always tasted supreme power," replied Nicolas. "They're afraid and angry, making them take unsound decisions. I told you their anger towards anything magical will be dangerous."

No one answered him as they waited. Daphne was tapping the transparent magical computer screen, working at a quick pace.

"What in Merlin's name?" she exclaimed. "According to our scans, all those weapons are inter-connected – by magic! Activating any one missile would automatically trigger a launch for every other nuclear missile in the world!"

Harry's eyes narrowed. What had Ivan Krum's band of rebels done _this_ time to help the Muggles fight the Republic's forces?

The enchantments took effect as a golden sphere formed all over the planet, connected by each of the devices in space.

 _BOOM!_

Everyone flinched at the sound as thousands of nuclear missiles impacted the shield. Due to the Fidelius Charm erected by Hermione Granger, no one in the Republic truly knew what these weapons were – until the woman had been killed. Therefore, James and his team had very little time to modify and strengthen the shielding enchantments in order for them to work properly, based on magical technology designed by Harry and Daphne two decades ago; technology that had never been tested by the Department of Mysteries before.

The enchantment, in theory, allowed the bubble to absorb the power of the missile and reflect the stale launch device back towards the surface.

It would have worked perfectly had only a dozen missiles hit the shield. Unfortunately, when thousands of them bombarded the shield without a break, the magic required to absorbing it didn't do a very good job. Most of the radiation was absorbed, but not the power of the missile itself. In fact, the shield collapsed due to the stress and its resultant magical power was transferred into the weapon systems.

Daphne gasped and her eyes widened in panic. This was not something she had expected. It was as if nature itself was playing a crucial part in this conflict.

As the second trigger, the Banishing Charm, activated, the missiles were reflected back at the caster.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. The speed at which the shield reflected the nuclear missiles back towards the ground was so fast that no one managed to cry out in alarm. Huge expositions rocked the planet, thousands of mushroom clouds visible from space.

No one on the bridge of _the Dreadnought_ dared to breathe a word as they all witnessed the effects of the nuclear bombs.

James collapsed on the floor, shaking badly. His wife cradled him, trying to soothe his nerves, but it didn't help, for she too shared his pain; _guilt._

"T-They weren't s-supposed t-to –"

"They did indeed work," said Nicolas Flamel quietly. "The initial bombs that impacted the shield did not detonate, but when you throw more than ten thousand of those foul things at the same time …"

"Our families … every magical settlement down there … _all gone!_ "

Harry didn't dare breathe. "Captain, run a full planetary scan," he said, his voice sounding alien to him.

"The magical population of all species is safe, Chancellor," Bloodfang said after a pause. "The shields around their cities protected them. It was probably a true blessing from Mother Magic that we all moved away from Muggle areas."

Everyone collectively exhaled in relief. James calmed down too. Their people were not dead.

"What of the Muggles?" inquired Dylan quietly, trembling slightly.

Bloodfang sighed. "Based on the number of missiles and their launch locations, we can estimate that more than ninety-five per cent of the Muggles are dead. The rest of them will probably not survive for long either. I'll probably give it another hour or two before they perish as well."

"The missiles absorbed the magic of the shields when it collapsed," Perenelle Flamel whispered. "Mother Magic, have mercy!"

Harry felt like someone was choking him. While he knew that war was inevitable and that there would be loss of lives, _never_ had he imagined that the entire non-magical species would be eradicated. Billions of lives, all lost because of –

Because of whom? Him? Daphne? Dylan? Where they at fault for preparing for war? Or were the Muggles at fault for creating and using such harmful weapons in the first place? But was it really about the weapons? After all, the Republic fleet was armed to the teeth. It would be hypocritical of him to blame the Muggles for creating weapons to defend themselves.

"Master," Harry addressed Nicolas. "Please find a way to decontaminate the planet. While the effects of the radiation may have been absorbed by the shield, the devastation it left behind is still massive."

"I'll have it done," he bowed in respect, his eyes sadly looking at his apprentice. Harry would probably carry this burden for the rest of his life.

"Recall all fighters and restore communication channels. Contact every magical settlement – all of them – and verify if they're alright. Survey every ship in the fleet; I want a full damage and casualty report."

After issuing further orders, letting Dylan take over, Harry gently led his silent wife into his office, away from the bridge. As soon as the doors shut, Daphne collapsed on the floor, her gaze unfocused.

"I'm a monster," she whispered. "I've caused the deaths of _billions!_ "

"You're not to blame for this, Daphne."

"How can you say that after what happened? This is _my_ fault!"

"Is it?" Harry asked quietly, wiping her tears away. "Since the moment Voldemort was defeated, the prophecy has been hanging over our heads. It warned us that unless we stop the rising darkness, the planet shall be consumed. You managed to save us all! Without those shields, we probably would have been destroyed. Krum and Granger enhanced those weapons with magic! How else would it explain what happened, with the missiles all launching at once and absorbing the magic of the shield? That happened because they were already exposed to magic! That was not your fault. You did what any good leader would do under pressure; you saved your people!"

"B-But at what cost?"

"What could we have done differently that would not have led to this outcome? _Hmm?_ We knew that magical children were treated horribly by Muggles, which was why we amended the Statute of Secrecy. Hermione Granger and Ivan Krum couldn't understand that and they chose to rebel. _Their_ actions caused this. _My_ actions caused this when I killed Krum instead of arresting him. _I'm_ at fault, Daphne, not you!"

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this!" Daphne hissed in anger.

Harry took a deep breath. Truthfully, he was still in a state of shock over what had happened. His stomach was clenching painfully as guilt tore him alive. No matter what his wife might claim, he knew that it was _he_ who was to blame.

 _He_ was marked by the prophecy. He was the one who chose to start the revolution. It was his mistakes that led to this point.

Was it truly a victory when you had no strength to even find it in you to celebrate? Had nature planned something worse had he failed in his mission? They would never know.

"We have fulfilled our mission," Harry said in an emotionless voice. "Granted, it was not how any of us expected it to end, but perhaps there was no changing it. Maybe the Muggles were meant to die at this point. We aren't Mother Magic to decide if this was good or bad for the world. We did our duty in protecting our people, our way of life, the planet itself, and _magic._ We protected _magic_."

"We did what we had to do, Daphne. It was their weapons and their choices that led to this. We defended ourselves, and our enemy's attack on us backfired. Maybe we succeeded, maybe we failed. Maybe we're heroes, maybe we're criminals. But we can't consume ourselves with such thoughts because it won't be _us_ who will be judging our actions. History will speak for itself. There is nothing we can do – not now."

Daphne buried her face in the nape of his neck and Harry hugged her tightly, his face too buried in her hair. Both of them were trembling, crying silently.

They would carry this guilt for the rest of their lives. Even if they had not been the ones to slowly destroy the planet due to pollution, or create weapons that were capable of mass destruction, or enchant such weapons to help Muggles win, they would still feel responsible for their actions because both felt they could have done better, even if no one else agreed with them. As far as the rest of the magical world was concerned, they were the greatest leaders ever born; leaders that had helped preserve their people's lives and culture from being obliterated by another race that was determined to hate and end them.

War was always brutal. It had lasted thousands of years, from the moment the original humans had been cursed. The conflict had ended soon but the war had been waged for millennia, all because certain people thought they could exploit nature for their own benefit.

The universe was strange and mysterious. Nature always triumphed, despite all odds. No one was above nature, and anyone thinking as such was a fool. The feeling was humbling. Nature had repeatedly given the Muggles a chance to reform but they chose to ignore it in their arrogance and ignorance, finally paying the price. The magical races would have to remember this, for should ever make the same mistake, they would one day experience the same fate in a different form.

 _Karma_ … The universe indeed worked in mysterious ways.

Daphne finally got her breathing under control. Wiping her tears away, she slowly stood up, helping him up too.

"Come on," she said in a raspy voice. "We still have a lot of work to do."

They didn't know how they were going to deal with the present situation, but they were willing to put aside their pain and guilt, for they had a duty to their people.

Their job was not done yet; not by a long shot.


	59. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_**

 ** _Mortals to Gods_**

 ** _Ten thousand years after the Great Muggle War …_**

Harry James Potter stood on top of a hill, overlooking the lake. Once upon a time, a beautiful castle had stood at this very spot. He had grown up here, but those memories felt so old and lost, despite his body looking so young. Potter Castle had long since been destroyed, paving the way for a new structure.

The Peverell Temple was massive in every way and unique in its design. The place radiated magic and for the first time in a long, long time, Harry felt at peace. He was lost in his memories.

The aftermath of the Great Muggle War was something he had never foreseen. Thanks to the help of the Elves, Centaurs and a variety of other forest-oriented magical species, the planet had been restored to its former glory. Captain Bloodfang had been right. The nuclear missiles had eradicated the Muggle population on Earth. Their own weapons had destroyed them, with the Muggles having apparently stored them in practically every part of their world where there was a settlement.

It took many years for the devastation to turn into wildlife, but once more, the planet regained its greenery. Sentient and non-sentient creatures alike _thrived_ and the natural presence of magic on the planet had never been stronger. In fact, it had been enough to rejuvenate the house-elves, giving them enough power to break free of the bonds of their human masters. Over a span of three generations, the house-elves slowly took to looking like their Elvin counterparts and their slavish history was forgotten.

Using the starships under their command, they had made contact with several other species in different parts of the galaxy. It soon became known that magic existed everywhere and that it was common among all living and non-living beings in the universe.

They found out that the reason Earth had never been contacted by any alien species before was due to the nature of the Muggles. Apparently, it had been labelled by several others as a freak planet due to the low amounts of magic it radiated and the weird way in which the dominant species lived, without the use of the not-so-arcane force.

Unfortunately, peace was not to last as an authoritarian empire ruled by fanatics who believed in their own superiority tried to take over the galaxy. For thousands of years, Harry, Daphne and Dylan had worked hard to restore peace and justice to the millions of planets that housed intelligent life.

He was brought out of his memories when he heard the laughter of children; Harry's heart clenched painfully. He and Daphne had been scarred permanently due to the deaths of their children. All three of them – Charlie, Belladonna and James, had lived long, happy lives with their respective families, but they did eventually leave the mortal plain. Having to outlive their children was dreadful. It had been worse for Dylan, who had to outlive his wife Astoria and their daughter Athena as well.

While Harry and Daphne chose to never have children again, Dylan had remarried several times to different alien women around the galaxy at different points in time. As expected, his wives and their children eventually died as well but those brief partnerships were enough to keep Dylan going. His marriages also brought stability to a number of worlds thanks to them forming political alliances.

War had plagued various planets over and over again, and they had never achieved true peace until about two thousand years ago, when the three of them had formed the _Galactic Republic_ , the chief governing body for the entire galaxy.

They were hailed as heroes and respected as Gods by countless beings.

And now, finally, it was time to say goodbye to the world. Walking towards the Temple, Harry spotted his wife talking to a young couple; the male had a pair of striking green eyes, a rarity these days.

"You are now the Grand Master of the Peverell Clan," said Daphne softly, addressing the human male, "and that means you are responsible for maintaining peace and stability throughout the galaxy. Do not get involved in the politics of the Galactic Senate; they do not concern you. Your only goal is to maintain balance."

"I understand, my Lady," he said, bowing to her.

The young man's eyes were filled with despair. While the Perevell Clan had once been Harry and Daphne Potter's blood family, they had long since been converted into an order that would serve and protect the galaxy. Due to the constant conflict that plagued the galaxy over the past several thousand years, the descendants of the duo had gone underground, protected by the members of the then newly formed order.

Today, the truth behind the emerald green eyes was fully forgotten except for a handful of individuals, like this young man in front of them.

Harry turned to look at the _Tomugata_ female. He could see the tear stains on her dark cheeks. Like the rest of the galaxy, she too was in mourning. As far as everyone else knew, Harry, Daphne and Dylan had passed away two weeks ago.

The Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, Lord Harry, their Chosen One, had moved on.

The greatest magical inventor and enchantress ever known, respected as a mother by all, Lady Daphne, had left them.

Their brave, beloved General, the man who kept them all safe, Lord Dylan, was dead.

As bad as it sounded, the three of them had to fake their deaths. They knew their time was up. They had done their duties in their mortal body. It was time to move on.

"Maya," Harry said softly, squeezing the woman's shoulder lightly. Until very recently, she had been his _chela_ , his apprentice, trained to take over the reins of the galaxy once he stepped down from office. "I'm so proud of you. I'm sure you'll rule the galaxy well. The people are lucky to have you as their Supreme Chancellor."

"My Lord, my Lady," Maya croaked out, "why are you leaving us?"

"We can't stay here forever, my dear child," Daphne replied, smiling sadly. "We have lived for too long, seen too many wars, fought for thousands of years … don't we deserve the peace that death brings us?"

"Both of you will now be working in partnership," said Harry, looking at Achilles, his descendant, the present Grand Master of the Perevell Clan, and at Maya, the new Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. He smiled faintly and continued.

"Remember that the people always come first. The Republic comes first, not you, and certainly not us. We have done everything possible to bring equality to the galaxy. It is now your job to maintain it."

Achilles nodded solemnly. It was true. The galaxy, once in chaos, was now a thriving civilization. Money and titles had no correlation with getting good jobs, for the Republic sponsored education for all its citizens. Massive schools were opened, with everyone in the galaxy being given the same basic education. After a certain age, they would be tested so that based on the scores of their exams, they could follow their chosen careers or pursue higher education.

It gave rise to efficiency and fairness that made the people stronger. Innovation and creativity blossomed due to everyone getting a chance to explore their ideas, whether big or small, whether they were the Supreme Chancellor or the vendor of a small shop. What else worked in their favour was that Harry, Daphne and Dylan had introduced strict laws to govern the Republic. Everyone was accountable to the law and no one was above them. The three of them repeatedly demonstrated that even _they_ were not above the law. Such acts only made them more loved in the eyes of the people.

But Achilles Peverell did not forget the fact that such a near-perfect society was built due to Lord Harry, Lady Daphne and Lord Dylan giving it all they had. They selflessly served their people, even when the said people turned their backs on them multiple times. A few thousand years before the formation of the Republic, they had been branded as evil and driven into exile for several years. The three of them had lived on the dirtiest of planets, in the filthiest of conditions, just so that they could rise again, all for the betterment of the galaxy.

They had _suffered_ … the people had made them suffer tremendously, but the galaxy wouldn't be what it was today had they not sacrificed so much for their people's development. He and his wife, Maya, often wondered how they did it. They truly were the blessings of Mother Magic herself.

"The shuttle is ready," said Dylan, coming up to them. Harry and Daphne nodded at Achilles and Maya and walked out of the hall. They didn't look back.

Letting Dylan pilot the shuttle, they sat in their seats in silence. The younger man, visibly not having aged a day after his twentieth birthday like the other two, tapped the computer panel with practised ease.

" _Sowilo Command_ , this is Peverell Shuttle 1-8-9 requesting permission to leave the planet's atmosphere."

"Granted," came the reply, the tone tinted with awe, even though the other person didn't know that it was Lord Dylan himself he was talking to. The Peverell Clan was revered throughout the galaxy as many knew that it was the tribe left behind by their great leaders.

"You're free to leave Sowilo space. Good day, Master Peverell."

Dylan snorted softly. "Good day, indeed," he muttered under his breath.

After they crossed Earth's atmosphere, or _Sowilo_ , as it was now called – after the ancient and historic city that had existed several thousand years ago, later destroyed during the course of several wars – they jumped into the _Tachys_ vortex. They didn't speak. All three of them were nervous. Less than an hour later, the shuttle dropped out of interstellar speeds and they saw their destination in front of them.

The black hole, at the centre of the galaxy, was waiting for them.

Harry, sitting in the middle, took each of Daphne and Dylan's hands in his.

"I know that both of you have suffered tremendously because of sharing my title of Master of Death," he said softly. "Before we go through with this, I just wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me. You stayed by my side through all this and I can never repay you for that. Thank you. I love you both so much."

"We had our own prophecies to fulfil in other planets, battles to fight, as we later found out," replied Daphne, smiling at him, bringing his hand close to her lips. "Any thank you is unnecessary, Harry. We were only doing our duty. Besides, I'm your wife. I would never have abandoned you."

"And you're getting way too emotional, egghead," teased Dylan, but Harry could spot the wetness in his eyes. They were getting closer and closer to the event horizon of the black hole. This was the place that had been calling out to them for the past few years. It was time to move on … they were here to give up their mortal bodies and be one with the universe.

"Brat."

"Dolt."

"You're both idiots," Daphne murmured, her lips curving into a fond smile. She closed her eyes. If she had to die, there was nowhere she would rather be, surrounded by the two people she loved more than anyone – Harry and Dylan.

Harry closed his eyes as the shuttle tried to hold on, trembling violently due to the massive amount of chaotic magic that the spatial anomaly was churning out. There was a bright flash of golden light before the world went dark.

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 _There was darkness, and yet there was light. There was life, and yet there was death. War, yet peace. Creation, yet destruction. Serenity, yet confusion. Chaos, yet order. Magic flowed everywhere. There was balance._

 _It was a reality that was beyond the comprehension of any mortal being in the universe. In fact, one could argue that it wasn't the universe at all. It was far beyond that._

 _Two golden spheres of energy suddenly appeared and danced around each other. They both had a powerful presence. They merged together, and it was as if one was witnessing the miracle of creation itself as a smaller sphere of golden energy was formed from each of them, creating a third presence. The ball of light continued to expand slowly_

 _The original spheres exploded in bright light. One of them turned jet black, and the other pure white. From a human's point of view, a man and a woman were suddenly formed from the spheres of energy. He had a dark complexion and jet-black hair. The entity's eyes would be very familiar to anyone who had met Lord Harry Potter, the hero of a galaxy far away. The orbs black as the cosmos twinkled, as if they could see the happenings of the entire universe._

 _The woman's skin tone was light and her eyes were pure white. They didn't really look human. She radiated peace and serenity, and her hair was golden. For any human who could even remotely comprehend her very existence, they would swear that she looked like the legendary magical innovator, Lady Daphne Potter. Her smile held the loving warmth of a mother goddess._

 _She squeezed his hand gently. White and black orbs locked together, their gaze full of warmth and love they felt for the other. It was enough to spread the feeling of serenity throughout infinite universes._

 _The third sphere of light expanded. The body of a small boy formed and stood before the duo. Despite being ageless, he took his favourite form of a ten-year-old. When he opened his eyes, one could see that his orbs were silvery-grey, a perfect blend of black and white, of life and death. He shared an uncanny resemblance to the human Dylan Lestrange._

 _The boy smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "Mother, Father!" he cried, rushing to embrace them. Harry and Daphne embraced their child, both of them smiling and looking content._

 _The three of them were the supreme beings who represented the beginning and the end. They were the creators, enforcers, and the destroyers of the universe. Their very existence was beyond the plane of understanding of anyone._

 _The one known as Lady Daphne was the manifestation of Magic. She was the divine being that the entire universe worshipped as Mother Magic. She was the creator of the universe, the primordial mother that breathed life into the void. Without her, there would be no life and no magic._

 _On the other hand, the one known as Lord Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, was the manifestation of Death. He kept the universe in balance, for without his intervention, the battle between good and evil would have destroyed all life. Good and evil, in a simple matter of speaking, were two sides of the same coin. In a civilization, it was he who decided when the change would occur, when good would become evil and when evil would become good, in order to restore balance. Everything once created had to be destroyed, and he destroyed the universe once its life cycle was complete, giving rise to creation once more._

 _Lord Dylan, as he had once been known, the child created out of the union of Lady Daphne and Lord Harry, was the protector of the universe. He led entire galaxies or even the smallest of insect colonies into revolutions that helped living creatures better themselves. He showed them a new way of life and was known as the propagator of good. He existed as a median between his parents, the thread that held Life and Death in harmony, just like he had once held the hearts of the mortals Harry and Daphne Potter in his palm._

 _No mortal had ever understood the relationship the three of them had shared when they were alive. They had constantly wondered why Daphne had adored Dylan in a strange maternal way, and why Harry was so protective of his brother and loved him beyond anything in the world, always acting on an apparent paternal instinct. Many had commented that Harry and Daphne often behaved like Dylan was their son and not an adopted brother, which, unknown to anyone, was not far from the truth._

 _The three of them represented the universe. This universe and any number of alternative universes they chose to create would not exist without them, as they were the beginning and the end. They WERE the universe itself._

 _They were the primordial energy that started and ended it all. In order to help countless worlds, they often took the roles of mortals. Their previous journey as mortals had just ended._

 _"How was your experience in living as my brother?" asked Harry, his stoic face showing the barest hint of a smile, lovingly running his fingers through his son's hair._

 _"It was certainly different, Father," Dylan answered, his silvery-grey eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I do prefer to be your son or daughter instead of a sibling."_

 _"I'm afraid you're going to have to wait for that, my child," smiled Daphne._

 _"Why is that, Mother?"_

 _"Because in our next birth, I'm going to be born as your daughter," she replied. "And unlike the previous time, it'll be you who will play a more pivotal role in this life, not us."_

 _"It'll be your job to take care of us now," said Harry softly. "Will you do it?"_

 _The ten-year-old boy grabbed his parents in a tight hug, his head barely reaching their shoulders._

 _"Always," Dylan whispered._

 _The eternal family was consumed by three spheres of golden energy as they once more descended into the mortal plain._

 ** _HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP_**

 ** _One hundred and eight thousand years later …_**

Lillian limped and struggled to make her way into the Peverell Temple on Sowilo. The war had been costly. Billions of lives had been lost due to the superior force of a neighbouring galactic cluster. The invaders had apparently decided that they wanted _this_ galactic cluster for themselves, so that they could enrich their own.

The natives had not been impressed. Unfortunately, the Inter-Galactic Republic, an extension of the once great civilization that Lord Harry and Lady Daphne had founded, had descended into rigidity and corruption in the later years. Exploiting this as a weakness, the invaders had used their superior numbers as an advantage and conquered them, despite the natives being better magic-wielders.

War had plagued the galaxy and its neighbours for more than six thousand years. Now, they had finally succeeded in pushing the cowards back to their homes. They were safe. The Inter-galactic Republic was in shambles, but Lillian was confident that it would recover in time.

She had been a slave to those invading barbarians, identified early due to her mixed heritage, something the invaders seemed to detest, and had been adopted by a member of the revered Peverell Clan many years ago, once she had escaped. She had been chosen to lead them into battle and was considered a revolutionary. She was their Chosen One, a title that had never been bestowed upon anyone else other than Lord Harry in the past.

She collapsed on the floor before them. Three massive golden statues stood before her, all smiling down at her with love and adoration. At the centre was Lord Harry, their beloved Chosen One who brought peace and balance to the galaxy, directing them towards a new age. He was the first Supreme Chancellor, the one who had created the Galactic Republic, a near-perfect way of governance that strived for honour and equality.

To his left was Lady Daphne, his legendary and awe-inspiring wife, who was worshipped by many as the personification of Mother Magic herself. She had been a brilliant warrior, much like her husband, and was also a renowned inventor of different types of magical technology. Her feats in magic were still unparalleled by anyone. Her educational and social reforms were what sustained their galactic cluster to date, despite blatant corruption at the higher levels of the political sphere.

To Lord Harry's right was his beloved son, Lord Dylan, the strong and charismatic God of War. He was adored by the citizens of the galactic cluster and was considered by many as the greatest warrior that had ever lived, his love for his people undying, protecting them for all eternity.

While it was universally accepted that Lord Dylan was Lady Daphne and Lord Harry's only child, there were those who outrageously claimed that he was, in fact, Lord Harry's brother, and not his son. Such rumours were laughed at and dismissed, of course, but no one could discount the fact that the three of them, who had lived many tens of thousands of years ago, were legendary heroes for all.

 _Lillian_ …

Her clan members had said that she was named after Lord Harry's mother. Tears trickled down her face as she struggled to get her breathing under control.

"I won't fail you," she whispered, looking at the massive idols with devotion. "Let the universe bear witness to my oath to you; I will restore the Republic and our Clan to their former glory. This is the solemn vow of a Peverell!"

Even so many years after their deaths, their presence continued to inspire countless lives. They would never be forgotten, even if the people got many of their true origins mixed up. What was important was their message and ideology, which had thankfully survived over the years.

Lillian wiped her tears away as she got to her feet, walking out of the Temple that had once been her home. Outside, she could see millions of people from various species from across the galactic cluster gathered before her, all of them cheering for her, their leader.

A leader like the three great beings before her. The feeling was humbling.

Lord Harry's famous words were etched in stone outside the premises. Legend claimed that this stone was once part of the famous Potter Castle, the original building that had once stood at this very spot; the home where the celebrated wizard had grown up.

 _"We are the children of Magic. Fight for justice. Treat all as equal. Protect the weak. Always know that righteousness, honour and integrity are above all. Stay true to who you are and you will realise that there is greatness in each one of us. There is divinity in each of us. Strive to find it, and you'll be one with the universe."_

Lady Daphne's message held deeper meaning and not many truly understood the weight that her words of wisdom carried. Not Lillian, though, because she was a true follower of the Mother Goddess.

 _"Strive for balance, for good and evil reside in each of us. One cannot exist without the other, for an excess of either will lead to chaos and destruction. The universe has its own methods of maintaining balance. Remember to never exploit nature for your own benefit, for that would disrupt the balance to be maintained. Never forget the story of the cursed humans that destroyed themselves in a bid to control nature. Learn from their mistakes and don't repeat them."_

Lord Dylan's message was the easiest to understand. He had been the hero for the weak and the strong alike and was no doubt the most adored God among the various great beings the citizens of the galactic cluster worshipped.

 _"Lady Magic resides in all of us. She is the one who breathed life into us. Lead a path of righteousness and listen to the great Mother; she will never lead you astray."_

Lillian had followed their ideologies and embraced them, cherished them. Raising her clenched fist high in the air, she screamed the words passionately that everyone repeated, all of them with tears in their eyes.

" _Glory to Lord Harry!"_

 _"Glory to Lady Daphne!"_

 _"Glory to Lord Dylan!"_

 ** _"Glory to the Universe"_**

 ** _THE END_**


	60. Author's Note

**_Author's Note:_**

 _And finally, Saviour of Magic is complete. It took me over a year, but I have to admit that writing this story had been amazing and enjoyable. And that's thanks to the wonderful reviews that I've received. Both appreciative reviews and constructive criticism helped me grow as a writer, and for that, you have my gratitude._

 _I'm not sure how many of you liked the ending. It was something I had planned since the beginning, ever since I began writing 'Lightning Lord'. As I had mentioned before in Chapter 54, it had less to do with Harry Potter and more to do with our current situation. You don't have to agree with my views, but I feel even the simplest message can make a difference. I'm not arrogant enough to think this fanfiction can change anything, but something small, somewhere, might be a start._

 _Like it, hate it, I'm thankful that you stuck with me for the past year while I wrote this. I'm not sure if I'll be writing any more fanfiction, but if you're interested, do let me know if you want me to update 'A Potter's True Love'. My other story, 'Power of Two', is on hiatus, I'm afraid. I do hope to finish it someday. We'll see._

 _Thank you all again._

 _Colt01_


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